Deliver Us From Evil
by Miss Tiffany Blews
Summary: Daisy is a skinwalker. She lived as a loyal house pet until she was kidnapped by a witch for a spell. When the spell went wrong, she found herself in Middle Earth. Evil began to rise and an adventure to destroy the One Ring is started. Daisy was part of the epic of war, death, deception, magic, hell fire, and eventually, love. eventual Boromir/OFC
1. Bottom of the River

There is something magical about the idea of loyalty. Imagine for a moment, if you will, someone that is loyal to you. They will stick by your side and care for you through everything. Even if the good times are few and the bad times are practically constant and have become a natural state. Having someone loyal to us makes us feel loved, but being loyal is the difficult part. I don't know why that bite was so magical that it made me loyal. In the time before, I would have left at the drop of a hat when the situation turned sour.

The house was dark as all the lights had been turned off, but I was still able to see shades of gray. Two forms laid underneath the heavy blanket on the bed. Their chests were rising and falling with each breath. My heart swelled watching them. They appeared peaceful in sleep, with calm, steady breaths. Knowing they were safe, I moved away from the doorway. I peeked into the next room to see a small child resting, a leg hanging off the edge of the bed. I shuffled into the room and came to the bedside. After pushing the limb back onto the bed with my snout, I grabbed the blanket gently in my mouth and covered the exposed skin. Seeing the child was comfortable, I exited the bedroom.

I used my enhanced sense of hearing and smell to guide myself through the house. I listened carefully for any steps of an intruder; I breathed through my nose in case I caught the stink of an unfamiliar scent. Finding no evidence of any danger, I decided to end my patrol and retire for the night. I trotted over to the large pillow that substituted for my bed, as the rain and the leak in my outside wooden kennel made it cruel to force me to sleep anywhere but inside.

Before I could even step onto the plush fabric, something wrapped around my throat. It burned horribly against my skin and fur. A hand clamped over my snout, stopping any sort of noise from escaping me. I struggled against the person, desperately trying to free myself. Air brushed across one of my ears as lips drew near and words I didn't understand were whispered to me. The shades of gray that made up my world turned to black.

* * *

My eyelids were heavy but I forced them to open. Once my vision came to focus, I was drowned in a world of color. Though not excessively vibrant, they appeared that way to me after so long of only seeing grays. I had missed colors and their beauty.

The next thing I noticed was that I felt cold. I had no fur to keep in my body heat, nor was I wearing any clothing. Glancing down at the wooden floor, I caught sight of my hands. I flexed them, as if checking to make sure they were fully operational. I peered around the room I was in, not quite sure what move to make next.

The room lacked any windows and had only one door that was probably locked. A long table with a single chair was in the middle of the room. On top of the chair were clothes. I stood on shaky limbs and quickly grabbed the clothes. The t-shirt was too large and the jeans were fine in width, but draped over my feet. I looked over the materials on the table and became confused. There were several bowls, a crucible, white candles, a drawn pentagram, a pair of handcuffs, and an assortment of dried herbs. It looked like a form of witchcraft.

The door flew open, causing me to quickly turn. A woman with dark skin that appeared to be about middle aged stood in the doorway. Before I could move, she raised a gun with her left hand and pointed it at me. A long dagger was in her other hand.

"Silver bullet," she warned me. "If you try anything, this will be going through your heart." She cocked the gun. "Got it?"

"Got it," I repeated back to her.

She gestured to the table with her gun. "Put the handcuffs on. Slowly."

With no other choice, I followed her instructions. I flinched at the pain that touching the silver handcuffs caused me, but I continued and snapped them over my own wrists. I gritted my teeth and tried to block it out.

"Sorry about this, Daisy," she told me. I stopped myself from asking her how she knew my name. She walked behind me and placed her hand on my shoulder and applied pressure. "On your knees." I dropped down and closed my blue eyes, awaiting my execution. "But I really needed a skinwalker and I'd have to go several states over just to find another one." She reached around me and pressed one of the bowls against my collarbone. The silver dagger replaced the gun and touched my neck.

"You'll regret this," I warned her, but my threat was empty.

"You're a terrible liar."

The silver sliced my neck open and fresh blood poured out. The witch quickly moved the bowl to catch the drainage. The pain of the wound and silver was unbearable. My body went into to shock and I couldn't move. My veins felt cold and my vision swam. Colors swirled and finally turned black.

* * *

I faded in and out of consciousness. I vaguely recalled pressure on my lungs, chilling water, and gentle hands. The smell of horse and hay tingled in my nose at one point, but I couldn't be sure. There was nothing I could be certain of until I awoke on soft silk sheets. I felt small pressure on my throat and instantly reached to touch it. My fingertips brushed against what felt like cotton.

"Please do not disturb your bandages." My eyes snapped to where the voice had come from. A tall man with long dark brown hair stood across the room. A silver circlet framed his forehead and the top of his hair was pulled back and held small braids in front of his shoulders. He wore long, regal robes that added to his air of nobility. But what was most shocking were his ears; they were exposed by his hairstyle and were pointed at the top.

Several emotions passed through me, including surprise and confusion. They must have showed on my face as he momentarily smirked as he approached me. He stopped by my side but kept a respectful distance; from here I could see his eyes were a stern gray. I opened my mouth to speak, but he interrupted me.

"It is best if you do not speak for now. The damage done to your neck was very serious. You are fortunate enough to be alive as well as be found by the patrol. I am sure you have questions but they will have to wait until you are recovered enough to speak." While his words and tone were formal, he offered me a kind look. I nodded my understanding to him. "I am Lord Elrond and we are in Imladris, also known as Rivendell: the Last Homely House West of the Mountains. You are our guest and my patient. Please make yourself welcome, but first continue to rest so you can heal."

I nodded once again and he gave me a small smile before taking his leave. Well, it looked like I wasn't in Kansas anymore.

* * *

It took several days for me to recover enough to speak. In the mean time, I was given a handmaiden named Baineth to take care of me. She had pale skin, dark hair, and silver eyes, which seemed to be common traits in Rivendell. She spoke in an accent that I could not place, but she told me her native tongue was Sindarin. Sometimes she would forget words in English, or Common Tongue, as she called it.

Though she looked no more than twenty-one, she told me she had lived "one-hundred, twenty, and six years." I, of course, choked on the water I was drinking because of this.

"Now that your ability of speech has returned to you, Lord Elrond wishes to speak to you. But perhaps you would like to take a bath first, my lady?"

Her hinting wasn't lost on me. I could smell myself well enough, even without my sharpened senses. They had cleaned me of the blood when I arrived, but my last bath had been in the river they pulled me out of, which I doubt counted. "That sounds wonderful, thank you. But please, just call me Daisy." This wasn't the first time I had made the request.

"I already have the water drawn, my l- Miss Daisy."

I sighed. Close enough, I suppose.

Baineth led me to the private washroom that was part of my chambers. A large circular tub was in the center of the room. She helped me undress, which I was embarrassed about at first, as she slipped the borrowed night gown from my shoulders and onto the floor. I carefully stepped into the hot water and slowly sat down.

The elleth expertly washed my hair and made sure not to soak the bandages around my throat. I stopped her from washing any skin other than my back. I had recovered from my initial body shame and became quite relaxed under her eyes.

"Miss Daisy, what happened here?" She stroked the white scar on the inside of my right forearm. It ran a few inches from the crook of my elbow downwards.

"Oh, that? It happened years ago. No big deal." The look in her eyes told me she didn't believe me, but she didn't press for answers.

Once my flesh had been scrubbed from the dirt and sweat that had built up over the last few days, I stood up and took the towel offered to me. I noticed a pink hue on Baineth's cheeks, which was curious.

She helped clothe me in a powder blue elven dress. It had a square neckline outlined in golden thread. The sleeves were tight until they reached the elbows, where they flowed freely; the insides were gold as well. I watched as she tied a golden sash, that apparently went with the dress, around my waist.

She brushed my hair and told me that she would braid it if only it were longer. My wavy, reddish brown hair only reached the tops of my shoulders and would perhaps be long enough to properly braid if it were straightened.

"And now, I pay Lord Elrond a visit," I mumbled.

* * *

Lord Elrond's office was as regal as he was, but still managed to be simple in design. Book shelves lined the walls and he had a desk covered in parchment as well as an ink bottle with a white feather sticking out of it. He welcomed me inside and offered me a seat in front of the wooden desk. I sat down and kept my eyes on him.

"Now, Lady Daisy, I have questions for you and I am sure you have some for me as well." I nodded in response. "Who harmed you?" My fingers flitted to the bandages, but I let them drop. "And please, do not lie and tell me it was an accident. The cut was clean and clearly made by a blade of some kind."

I had already thought of what to tell him. Obviously the truth was not an option, but the best way to lie is to keep it as close to the truth as possible. "A witch did this to me." Since they had elves, chances were that magic wasn't unknown to them either.

"A witch?"

"Yes."

"Why would a witch want to harm you?"

"I don't know! She spoke of some spell and she slit my throat. I don't know if sending me here was her intention or an accident, but here I am." I knew the witch needed me specifically because I was a skinwalker, but I excluded that information.

He seemed to mull things over in his mind for a moment before speaking. "And you are not from Middle-Earth?"

"Earth, yeah. But I've never heard of _Middle_-Earth. And are you really elves? Because I'm quite sure we don't have those where I come from." I could've been wrong, of course; my knowledge of other monsters was limited.

"This is most interesting. I have a friend that can perhaps assist you; but for now, please continue to be our guest, Lady Daisy."

"Thank you so much, Lord Elrond. But I have some questions about Middle-Earth."

He smiled and said, "Of course, I shall give you all the information you need." He gave me a run through on Middle-Earth's history, geography, and races. He even let me borrow some of the books from his shelves after I gave him my word that no harm would come to them.

The next week in Rivendell I spent reading and learning. Whenever I got stuck, I asked Baineth and she answered all the questions she could. In fact, I found a friend in her. She was quite lovely; all elves were but she was more, she was humble and wasn't condescending like some of the few elves I met were. (Lord Elrond wasn't either, thankfully.) But there was another elleth I came into acquaintance with that didn't look down on me for being "of the Race of Men." (As far as they knew, I was just a woman, not a skinwalker.)

This elleth was Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond. She was a rare beauty, even among elves. I learned from Baineth that she was in love with a mortal man whom was called Estel by the elven-kind. He was an "elf-friend" and had been given an elven name for it. When I asked her what an elf-friend was, she told me that it was "a title or epithet bestowed by Elves upon those of other races who aided or liked them." Apparently, this was a high honor.

Baineth and I soon found our cultures clashing. She was relatively surprised to find out that I even had the ability to read, as was this was usually uncommon among women (human women, that is). She was also surprised to know that my experience at horse riding was minimal. I had only ever ridden once and everything had been taken care of by the handler; my only job was to sit there. So she taught me horseback riding and I helped her improve her reading and writing in Common Tongue.

"So," I began as we sat in my chambers, "are you seeing anyone?" It had been several weeks since I spoke to Lord Elrond and there hadn't been any news about this "friend" of his. I hadn't asked either, I figured he would tell me what I needed to know. The bandages had been removed and all that was left was a pink scar.

Baineth stopped her stitching. I had ripped a hole in one of the riding dresses I had been given and Baineth was fixing it. "I do not understand. I see you right now." Her expression showed her confusion.

"Uh, how would you phrase it? Um, are you courting someone?"

She smiled lightly and her cheeks turned pink. "I believe you mean to ask if someone is courting me, and no, they are not."

"Oh. Well, have you ever been courted?"

"Oh no, I am quite young anyhow."

I frowned at her. "You're 126 years old. Is that young for elves?"

She took a moment before saying, "Well, a hundred years is when we are considered adults." She started stitching again. "Very much different from 'humans,' as you call them."

"Human is a better term than 'the Race of Men.' It's gender neutral after all," I insisted. She simply hummed in response. I stood from the bed and came over to look at the fabric in her hands. "That's quite impressive. My mother tried teaching once, but she wasn't that good herself."

Baineth's silver eyes widened in shock. "You do not know how to sew?"

"Nope," I replied casually.

"It is a very important skill to have!"

I tilted my head in thought. "I suppose you're right. Are you willing to teach me?"

She nodded happily. "Of course, my lady!"

"Daisy," I corrected.

She smiled. "Daisy."

After being given a fabric to work with along with the basics, I started practicing. We sat in silence, both of us concentrated on our work, until she decided to break it.

"If you do not mind me asking, Miss Daisy, were you ever 'seeing someone?'"

I smiled at her use of my vernacular. "Yes, actually. I've had numerous… er, courtships. I was engaged in fact."

I didn't stop surprising her, it seemed. "Really? You were betrothed? "

I smiled fondly. "Yeah, his name was Wade. He used to be such a nice guy."

"Used to be?"

My smile fell. "It's a long story. I'm sorry, but it's a private matter."

She ducked her head. "I apologize for intruding, my lady."

I didn't correct her this time.


	2. Above the Noise & Confusion

I had spent four and a half weeks in Rivendell before my secret was revealed.

Lord Elrond had requested I meet him in his office one late morning. I had several working theories as to why; the main one being that word had been received from this friend of his. I knew someone else was in his office as soon as the door cracked open and before my gaze could find its way inside. The scent was different than that of the elves, telling that he - as the smell was distinctly male - was not of their species. He smelled almost human, but their was a slightly dissimilar tinge to it. There was also a faint trace of smoke from some unknown weed.

When the door was opened all the way, my assumptions had been proven to be correct. He was an older fellow; his hair was long, gray, and slightly wavy, but his beard surpassed its length. He wore dark gray robes and carried a tall wooden staff in hand. He gave me a kind but curious look with his blue eyes.

"Lady Daisy, this is Gandalf the Gray," Lord Elrond introduced.

I gave a polite nod. "Please, Daisy is just fine." I couldn't figure out if people assumed I was being humble or not, but I was simply correcting them on the fact I did not have the title of "lady."

"Miss Daisy," he spoke with the same natural gruffness that all old men speak with, "Lord Elrond has told me your story and I must say that it is an interesting one."

I stopped myself from insisting that it was true. That's what liars did, right?

He continued on, "You said a witch did this to you? I myself am a wizard, someone who practices magick. Perhaps I can offer some insight."

So I repeated the tale but added more detail and excluded the skinwalker parts.

"And you do not know why the witch chose you for her sacrifice?"

"No idea," I lied.

He studied me for a moment before speaking. "Darkness begins to once again stir in Middle-Earth. It may be possible that the Valar sent you here for a reason, to aid the Free Peoples in the coming battle." He closely at me. "Are you quite sure that you do not know as to why the witch chose you?"

"Definitely," I lied, my index finger skimming over my philtrum on reflex.

He wrapped two hands near the top of his staff and leaned on it. "Miss Daisy, it is important that you do not lie."

"I'm not lying!" I flinched at my own pitch. I was a terrible liar.

"If you wish us to help you, you need to be honest with us," Lord Elrond told me, his face stoic once again.

I rung my hands nervously. "I - I'm not human."

"Human?" Gandalf inquired.

"It is the word she uses for the Race of Men," Lord Elrond supplied.

"Where I'm from," I continued, "I'm a monster. My kind are known as skinwalkers."

"Skinwalker," Gandalf repeated as if trying out the word. "And what gave you the title of monster?"

"On Earth," I explained, "most people don't know magick exists, nor creatures other than humans and animals. And if they did, we would have to still live in secret. Hunters are always a threat to us."

"Hunters? Your kind are being hunted down?" Lord Elrond's brow creased and he seemed genuinely concerned. It relieved me to know that he found genocide, even if it was against monsters, to be terrible.

"Hunters aren't necessarily evil, they just see the world in black and white. To them, everything is evil or it isn't. I've never harmed anyone, but I'm still a potential threat to innocent people."

"What quality does you and your kin have that make you different from the Race of Men?" Lord Elrond asked.

"Well," I began, trying to think of a to explain it without causing danger to myself, "we were once human. We have an infectious bite, meaning that if I were to bite another human - something tells me it won't work on elves - then they become one of us. Also, some of us have a… taste for hearts, but not all."

They seemed rather surprised at this. "You continue your species by biting someone else?" Gandalf asked.

I nodded. "It happened it me and the skinwalker that bit him. When I was first bitten, I thought it was just some stray dog and I wasn't too worried about it. But then I noticed my senses became sharper and it terrified me. And when I went through my first transformation, it was horrifying."

"Transformation?"

I took a deep breath and I changed before them. Practice allowed me to simultaneously slip out of my dress and not become tangled in it. Rather than a 5'2 twenty-six year old woman, a red husky with a white face, chest, and underbelly stood before them. My blue eyes had become a lot more paler and my tail curled naturally like any other husky.

Lord Elrond then showed the most expression I had ever seen from him. His gray eyes were wide and his eyebrows were quite high. Gandalf, in contrast, seemed mostly amused. "My! Sent from the Valar indeed!" he exclaimed.

* * *

I rushed down a corridor on my way back to my room. Lord Elrond and Gandalf had told me that they needed to discuss some things - my things probably - and would speak to me later. But they seemed to agree on inviting me to a "Secret Council" that was to be taken place this afternoon. I was not to speak of it to anyone, not even Baineth. They then turned their backs to allow me to change back into my dress, the same blue and gold one I had first met Lord Elrond in. I had taken my leave in human form.

I was so wrapped in my thoughts that I failed to notice a second person in the corridor, until I ran into him, that is. I was able to identify him as male before I even got a look at him for two reasons: (a) the form of his body when we collided, and (b) the strong masculine scent that he had. Unfortunately, these observations did not stop me from tumbling backwards. What did stop my fall were two large hands gripping my upper arms and holding me until I regained my balance.

"Are you alright, my lady?" he asked me. I looked him in the face for the first time. He looked to be in his late 30s. He had dirty blond hair that just touched the tops of his shoulders and a short beard. He seemed to be about nine inches taller than myself. Gray eyes searched mine to check my well being.

"Yes, I'm just fine. Sorry for running into you, my lord. I wasn't paying attention." Even though my knowledge on medieval times had a long way to go, I could tell from his outfit that he was most likely wealthy, maybe even a nobleman.

His eyes widened a fraction of a bit. "You are not an elf!" After it was out of his mouth, he seemed to regret it in fear of being rude. I wasn't as shocked to see a non-elf in Rivendell as word of guests had reached Baineth, and in turn, me.

I waved it off as I saw no need to be offended. "No, I'm not. And neither are you," I pointed out.

"I did not expect a citizen of Rivendell to be a woman. Please forgive me, I did not mean to be rude. But, my lady, it is not hard to mistake you for an elleth, as you are fair as one. Might I know your name, my lady?" His every word flirted and it caused me to smile. I could only imagine that most women here were not the initiators in romantic relationships and they were kept innocent enough for a simple sugary line to make them bashful. Women of the 21st century were indeed different.

"Daisy," I told him. "And you, good sir?" I teased him. My playful tone brought out a smile.

"Lord Boromir, son of Denethor II. I am also the Captain-General of Gondor," he informed me.

I flicked up an eyebrow. "Is that so?" It was quite obvious he was trying to impress me with his fancy titles. Even though we had just met, I found flirting with him fun. And that's all this was: fun. While he was generally attractive, I did not intend to pursue any sort of relationship with him or anyone else in Middle-Earth. My main focus was surviving in a foreign world.

"Yes, it is." His smile grew wider and I could tell me was enjoying himself as well. But in order for this game to stay interesting, it had to be challenging.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Lord Boromir, son of Denethor II, Captain-General of Gondor, but I need to be going."

His smile dropped a bit. "So soon, Lady Daisy?"

"I have other matters to attend to," I lied, feigning disinterest. I turned away and took a few steps until he spoke again.

"Perhaps we'll see each other again?"

"Perhaps," I repeated, barely sparing him a glance.

* * *

The "Secret Council" that I had been invited to was made up of many unique faces. I was thankful for the research of Middle-Earth I had conducted. This way I was able to recognize the fair elves of Mirkwood and the stout dwarves. There was even a person I first thought to be a child with an adult-like face until I recalled a passage of hobbits and realized he fit the criteria. Gandalf sat next to him and Lord Boromir sat across the circle from us, as I had a seat near them. I did not fail to notice that I was the only female attending. Lord Boromir's questioning glances that he sent me weren't hard to miss either.

"Strangers from distant lands," Lord Elrond opened up, "friends of old, you've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor." His gaze scanned all of us. "Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction; none can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom." His intense eyes landed on the hobbit. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo." He gestured to the stone pedestal in the center.

The hobbit, Frodo, stood and slowly made his way to the middle. He placed a golden band onto the stone and retreated to his seat.

"So it is true," Lord Boromir whispered to himself, his hand touching his mouth.

Once again I was thankful for the history lessons of Middle-Earth I had forced myself to take. I had read enough legends to recognize the One Ring that had been deemed pure evil. Judging from the nervous glances passed about, I wasn't the only one.

Aside from the tales, there was something off about it. Animals tended to be more sensitive to things than humans. This was a trait I had inherited. The feeling the Ring gave wafted was strong enough for a human to detect. The effect it had on me was terrible. My hair stood on end and my instincts were alive with natural fear.

I might have dashed from the scene if Boromir hadn't stood up in that moment to make a speech. "A dream: I saw the eastern sky go dark," he said, his eyes moving away from the Ring. "And in the west a pale lighting, voices crying. Doom is near at hand." He took slow steps toward the source of evil. "Isildur's Bane is found." His hand began to reach for it, making my teeth clench. "Isildur's Bane," he faintly whispered.

Lord Elrond shot to his feet. "Boromir!"

Gandalf interrupted him, speaking in a foreign language that was dark and gruff. Boromir instantly pulled back and everyone seemed to panic in their seats. The sky grew dark and the ground shook lightly. The elves appeared to be in pain, and I with them. When he finally stopped, the scene returned to normal right away. Boromir and Gandalf took their seats again.

"Never before has any voice uttered words of that tongue here in Imladris," Lord Elrond spoke in a clipped tone.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond," Gandalf told him, "for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the west. The Ring is altogether evil!"

"No, it is a gift," Boromir insisted with a shake of his head. "A gift to the foes of Mordor." He stood once again. "Why not use this ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people have your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy, let us use it against him." Even though I disagreed with every word from his mouth, I had to admit he spoke with a fiery passion.

"You cannot wield it," a voice spoke up. My eyes landed on a man with dark hair and pale blue eyes. "None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" Boromir asked.

"This is no mere ranger," a blond elf said, standing up. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

Boromir turned to Aragorn in surprise. "Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," the elf added.

Aragorn held up his hand and said something to the elf in one of the elven tongues.

Boromir turned to the elf and said with contempt, "Gondor has no king." His gazed moved back to Aragorn. "Gondor needs no king." He sat down again.

"Aragorn is right," Gandalf said. "We cannot use it."

"You have only one choice," Lord Elrond said, "the Ring must be destroyed."

"What are we waiting for?" a redheaded dwarf asked. He stood, axe in hand, and swung it at the Ring with a battle cry. The axe instantly broke and the dwarf fell to the floor, making a few of his kin stand up in concern. The Ring was unharmed.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft we here possess," Lord Elrond informed him. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep within Mordor and cast back in the fiery chasm of whence it came. One of you must do this."

There was a moment of silence before it was broken by Boromir. "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breath is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this." He shook his head at the idea of it. "It is folly."

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has just said?" the same elf questioned him. "The Ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?!" Gimli half shouted at him.

"If we fail, what then?!" Boromir was back on his feet. "What happens when Sauron takes back what was once his?!"

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!" Gimli declared. These words triggered an argument as everyone stood and shouted. Frodo, Lord Elrond, Aragorn, and I were the only ones remained seated. I noticed the look the hobbit gave the Ring; it was not desire, but fear.

He suddenly stood and said loudly, "I will take it!" but his words were drowned out by the argument. "I will take it!" he shouted again and everyone's voices died out. "I will take the Ring to Mordor." Everyone stood, shocked by his words. "Though… I do not know the way."

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins," Gandalf promised, placing a hand on his shoulder, "as long as it is yours to bear."

Aragorn stood and said, "If by my life or death I can protect you I will." He approached him and kneeled in front of him and vowed, "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow," the elf included.

"And my axe," Gimli added, despite the end his axe had already met.

I thought about how I had come into Middle-Earth by accident, a fluke, a mistake made by a power hungry witch. But Gandalf believed it to be fate. I didn't know if this was true, but Middle-Earth was my new home by default now, and I could not see it burn. "I offer you my blood if you will have it," I said to him.

"You carry the fates of us all, little one," Boromir told him. "If this is indeed the will of this council, then Gondor will see it done."

"Hey!" a voice suddenly called out. Another hobbit ran out from behind a bush and came to Frodo's side. "Mister Frodo is not going anywhere without me," he insisted with his arms crossed.

"No, indeed is impossible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a Secret Council and you are not," Lord Elrond said with amusement.

"Oi! We're coming too!" Two more hobbits dashed onto the scene and I had to stop myself from laughing. "You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!"

"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest… thing," the other said with a thicker accent.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip."

Lord Elrond gazed at us all. "Ten companions, so be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Great!" Pip said. "Where are we going?"


	3. I Have a Heart, I Swear I Do

One of the first things I had noticed when entering Middle-Earth was the freshness of the air. I hadn't realized that the air I breathed in on a normal basis was so polluted until coming to a world that was pre-Industrial Revolution. I had thought that maybe the air was just that way because of Rivendell's magic. Alas, when we set out on our journey, after a farewell speech from Lord Elrond, the air quality remained the same.

We found ourselves on the Eregion Hills, eating breakfast. Sam was at the campfire while Boromir practiced sword fighting with Merry and Pippin. Gimli and Gandalf were conversing and I turned my attention to them.

"If anyone were to ask for my opinion," Gimli said, "which I note they have not, I would say we are taking the long way round. Gandalf, we can pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome."

"No, Gimli. I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice." His tone of voice set me on edge.

Legolas jumped onto a boulder and peered at the sky. Gandalf followed his gaze. Before I could, my attention was then drawn to the hobbits as they tackled Boromir. There was hearty laughter as Aragorn approached them, only to be pulled into the mock battle as well.

"What is that?" Sam asked.

"Nothing, it's just a wisp of a cloud," Gimli informed him.

"It's moving fast, against the wind," Boromir said worriedly after he had regained his footing.

"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas shouted.

"Hide!" Aragon loudly ordered.

"Merry, Pippin, Sam, take cover!" Boromir said as Aragorn called for Frodo.

Quickly the fire was doused as our supplies were picked up as we hid under overhanging boulders, crevices, and bushes. I found myself pressed against Boromir in a shrub as what appeared to be black birds flew overhead. They squawked loudly, but quickly moved on.

"Spies of Saruman," Gandalf said as he came out of his hiding place. "The passage south is being watched. We must take the pass of Caradhras!" Our gazes were directed to a tall snow capped mountain.

"Damn," I muttered. "On the bright side, at least it's just a ring." Boromir gave me a strange look from his place next to me. "Can you imagine if we had to cart, like, a solid gold statue of Sauron around Middle-Earth?"

His expression turned amused. "You are right, Miss Daisy, for that would make Frodo's burden much worse."

* * *

In truth, I felt a sense of guilt and dread from hiding my species from the Fellowship. Guilt for lying to them, especially Frodo as I had pledged my life to him. Dread came from them finding out. I wanted to hold out as long as possible; gain their trust first. However, the truth set me free earlier than expected.

The sun was just beginning to set as we stopped to make camp at the base of the mountain. I had a strange feeling of uncertainty about the place. I trusted Legolas's elven senses, but I felt a natural duty to inspect the area myself and guard everyone.

Sam had just started a fire and was going through our foodstuffs to start cooking when I rose from the rock I had been using as a seat. "I'll be back in a little bit," I mumbled to him. He gave me an apprehensive look but nodded anyway.

Once I was far enough and shielded by the trees, I transformed. I placed my clothing on the roots of a tree and followed my instincts. I kept my nose close to the ground and would raise it once in awhile to smell the air. I was about half a mile from camp when I caught the scent of a territory marker. Wolves.

I quickly turned to leave, but a deep growl stopped me. A large wolf stood several yards away from me. His fur had shades of browns, grays, and white and it stood on end. His black lips were pulled back to reveal off-white fangs. His eyes glowed a dangerous gold and his whole stance screamed violence.

As a husky, my tail naturally curled upwards. Unfortunately, to wolves this was a declaration of dominance. I would have normally run off and taken my chances of outrunning him, but I didn't want to lead him back to camp. Logically, it was the smart move since the Fellowship could easily kill him. My canine instincts won me over in the moment.

We slowly circled each other, fangs bared and growls rumbling in our throats. He had the upper hand of strength and savagery, but I had the intelligence of a human. We broke the circle at the same instant and locked jaws, trying to reach the other's throat. He used his heavier weight to knock me down. My front paws were pressed against his chest and kept him from my throat. I managed to kick him off with my back legs despite the pressure from his weight.

I was quick to gain my footing and launched myself at him. Before I could reach him, he rose from his tumble and prepared himself. His fangs dung into my shoulder causing me to yelp loudly. I bit his ear and the fur around it and pulled. The pain shocked him enough to release me. I used my new advantage and tore at his throat with my teeth. He whined and lower himself to the ground in surrender. I would have let him go, but the need to protect the Fellowship clouded my judgement. My white face and chest turned red as I ripped out his throat.

* * *

The adrenaline quickly wore off and my trembling legs barely made it back to camp. Pain flared through my right shoulder, causing me to whimper with every step. I heard voices as I neared camp.

"As I have said, she should not have joined us."

"Nonetheless, we have to find her, Boromir. Look, Legolas found her clothing not more than several yards from here. There are no streams nearby to bathe in, so she must have been taken."

"You must not assume the worst, Aragorn."

"So she is simply wandering around naked?"

It was at this moment that I came into the campsite. Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli, and Legolas all reached for their weapons by reflex, but stopped when they saw the pitiful state I was in. I limped my way closer before dropping my back legs to the ground and lifting my right paw so not to put weight on it. With no other choice, I turned back into my human form.

I wrapped an arm around my chest to hide my bare skin from them. Aragorn was the first to recover from shock (with the exception of Gandalf who already knew of my abilities). He came to my side and wrapped a dark cloak around me.

"Thank you," I said through clenched teeth as he helped me rise and walk to my bedroll. I held the cloak tighter but allowed him to inspect my torn shoulder. His eyes went to the blood that coated my face, neck, and chest. "It isn't mine," I told him. His expression was troubled but he nodded anyway.

"You're a skin-changer!" Gimli gasped.

"She is not like Beorn, Master Gimli," Gandalf told him.

"I don't know who that is," I said, "but my kind are called skinwalkers." I flinched as Aragorn began to clean my wound.

"Are you a spy?" Boromir asked sharply.

"Miss Daisy is from a different world," Gandalf answered for me. "I doubt they would be interested in Middle-Earth."

"A different world?" Pippin gasped, his eyes wide in wonder.

"How did you get here?" Aragorn asked, making sure to get rid of whatever dirt could potentially cause an infection.

"A witch needed a skinwalker for a spell and she decided to use me. I don't know if her intention was to send me to Middle-Earth, but here I am."

"How do we know we can trust her?" Boromir asked, his spy theory still in the making. "She is a skin-changer! She could be working for Sauron."

"Not a skin-changer," I corrected him. "I already told you, I'm a skinwalker."

His gray eyes narrowed at me. "You leave suddenly and return as a _dog_, covered in blood! Whose blood is it anyway?!"

"A wolf's," I snapped at him. "My animal instincts got the better of me," I admitted.

"She is telling the truth; these wounds are a wolf's bite," Aragorn vouched for me.

"My world is very different from Middle-Earth," I began to explain. "We're more technologically advanced, among other things. But we don't have hobbits, dwarves, elves, nor orcs; at least from what I know. We do have other creatures and monsters. Most people believe that just humans - or the Race of Men as you call them - and animals are the only ones inhabiting the world. There are some that know the truth however, most of them are hunters. They hunt down and kill anyone or anything that is not human or an animal." I hissed in pain as Aragorn began to bandage my shoulder. "Some monsters do need to be stopped; they live to kill and cause destruction. But some of us have done no harm!"

"What kind of monsters?" Merry asked with a bit of fear in his eyes.

"Vampires for one; they're blood drinkers. Werewolves are another; they're considered cousins of skinwalkers."

"And are you a monster?" Frodo asked.

I looked him straight in the eyes. "Some would say so. I admit that some of my kind are. All of us used to be human at some point, but we were turned." I turned my gaze to the flames that were intentionally kept low. I recalled those years ago when I tried to be kind to a dog in an alley. I was surprised when it suddenly went from being welcoming to violent as it bit me. I had cleaned the wound, which was barely a scratch, and thought nothing of it. But I was horribly mistaken.

"When we bite another human, we spread our curse and change them into one of us. That's what happened to me, the one that bit me, and all the other skinwalkers." My eyes glanced at them. "I said we are cousins to werewolves, another species. They have an infectious bite as well, but the curse is so much worse. They do not change into a beast, but every full moon they lose control of themselves and go hunting. The damage they do to a person is horrendous, or so I've heard." I swallowed. "I don't blame you if you don't want to journey with a monster or if you don't trust me. I probably wouldn't."

"You're one of us, Miss Daisy," Frodo told me. "You promised your blood to me in Rivendell, and I do not believe anything has changed since then."

I smiled brightly at him. "Thank you so much, Frodo." Being accepted so easily truly warmed my heart. Because of the curse, I had left my life behind and could only find love and comfort inside a body of fur. For the first time since those jaws clamped over my flesh, I was accepted as a monster.


	4. This Sick, Strange Darkness

I was thankful that of all the dogs I could've turned into, a husky was it. My thick coat of fur kept me warm and the pads of my feet had a much better time walking in snow than humans. Huskies were made for the cold and my body was adapted for things the rest of the Fellowship were not. I especially felt bad for Bill the pony.

Even though the snow was not terribly deep, Frodo had suddenly went tumbling. Aragorn called to him and helped him stand. The rest of us had stopped to watch the ongoings. After wiping some snow off himself, Frodo realized the necklace holding the One Ring was not on him. Yards away, it laid in the snow to be picked up by Boromir. A strange look entered his eyes as he gazed at the Ring.

"Boromir," Aragorn said.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing," he sighed, "such a little thing." I thought back the light hearted joke I made those days ago.

"Boromir," Aragorn said sharply. "Give the ring to Frodo."

At the call of his name, Boromir tore his eyes from the golden band. He took careful steps toward Frodo and Aragorn with this gloved hand outstretched. "As you wish." Frodo snatched the chain and Ring back. "I care not," Boromir said with a bit of a smile, as if trying to ease the situation. He chuckled and ruffled the Ring bearer's black locks.

Hours later, we found ourselves in the middle of a blizzard. While my fur offered me protection from the elements, the wind still chilled me to the bone. The snow was thigh deep, meaning the hobbits had to be carried. Legolas was the epitome of elvish perfection and walked on the surface with light feet. I couldn't do the same, but I didn't sink in as deep as the others.

Legolas, leading the front of our group, paused suddenly. "There is a fell voice in the air," he announced ominously. Had I been able to verbally communicate passed growls and barks, I would've complained about the vague warning.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf shouted.

What sounded at first like thunder cracked loudly through the air. We all turned our gazes upward to see large rocks from the cliff crack, break, and fall. We instantly ducked and moved away from the edge to avoid falling debris. I felt my stomach clench in terror.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn shouted above the howling wind. "Gandalf, we must turn back!" I hated the thought of suffering this icy hell to be all in vain, but the urge to flee built up inside of me and I let out a whine in agreement with the ranger.

"No!" Gandalf shouted. Using his staff, he seemed to be saying a spell. "_Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho I ruith_. Sleep Caradhras, be still, lie still, hold your wrath."

Lighting struck high above up and fear seized my heart. Before the rocks even started falling, I tucked myself against the cliff wall and lowered my head. The other joined me moments later as snow, rock, and ice rained down. Everything became white. I felt as if I was suffocating in a powdered sea of snow. Panic coursed through my veins, but I was able to remain calm enough to dig my way out.

I barely managed to pulled myself from what could've been my frozen grave when I heard Boromir shout, "We must get off the mountain! Make for the gap of Rohan and take the West Road to my city!" As long as it was warm, I was game.

"The gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn argued.

"We cannot pass over the mountain. Let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria," Gimli proposed.

Gandalf had a troubled look on his face. "Let the Ring bearer decide." Frodo looked shocked and unsure of what to do.

"We cannot stay here!" Boromir held Merry and Pippin as they shivered in his arms. "This will be the deaths of the hobbits!"

"Frodo?" Gandalf urged.

"We will go through the mines," he answered in a clear voice. I internally cheered that a decision had finally been made that did not involve an in icy death.

Still, Gandalf did not seem as elated as I was at this news. "So be it."

* * *

We had been walking along the shores of a dark lake that gave me a strange feeling. A huge cliff stood in front of us, which Gimli informed us was the walls of Moria. "Dwarf walls are invisible when closed," he said, tapping his axe against the rock. According to Gandalf, even dwarves lost them, which roused a rude remark from Legolas.

Gandalf searched the stone cliff, looking for the hidden door. "_Itidin_. It mirrors only starlight and moonlight," he whispered, turning his gaze to the full moon. It reminded me how glad I was that a skinwalker had bitten me and not a werewolf.

Like magic, the outline of the door appeared in a soft light once exposed to the moon. "It reads: 'The door of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend and enter,'" the wizard told us.

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry asked.

"It's quite simple. If you are a friend, speak the password and the doors will open," he answered confidently. "_Annon edhellen, edro hi ammen_!"

We stood there in silence as nothing happened.

Gandalf tried again.

"Nothing's happened," Pippin remarked.

The wizard resorted to applying pressure to the door.

"What are you going to do then?"

"Knock your head against them, Peregrin Took, and if that does not settle then I have no place for foolish questions and I will try to find another way," he snapped.*

He continued to try words and spells, but the rest of us settled down for a well deserved break.

"The Mines are no place for a pony, even one as brave as Bill," Aragorn told Sam as he started to remove the packs.

"Bye, Bill," Sam told the small steed.

"Go on, Bill, go on," Aragorn insisted. "Sam, he knows the way home." His words of assurance could not keep the look of sadness off Sam's face. Aragorn turned to me. "You should probably turn back to your original form. The Mines will be much more difficult to navigate on four legs."

I quickly dipped my muzzle downward to convey my understanding. I grasped my pack that contained my clothing from the ground and went off to be out of sight of the was no place to hide so I did my best to keep a safe distance. I transformed with my back to them and trusted them enough to keep their eyes to themselves. I pulled on my skintight, tan breeches, dark green tunic, black belt, and black boots that reached just below my knees.

As I made my way back to the group, I slid an elvish dagger into my belt. I touched my hair and felt how unkept and messy it was. It had grown several noticeable inches since I came to Middle-Earth. I attempted to brush and tame it with my fingers before I faced the male gazes. Looks weren't a priority on this quest, but it was natural for me.

Merry and Pippin were passing the time by throwing stones into the lake. Just as Pippin had arched back his arm, Aragorn caught his wrist. "Do not disturb the water," he said just above a whisper.

I followed his line of sight on the black water as ripples seemed to form. I could hear Frodo speaking, but my attention was focused on the murky depths. My animal instincts were alive once again and fight or flight settled in. Something told me that fleeing was the better option.

At a word from Gandalf, the thick stone doors opened, drawing everyone's attentions. I was thankful we would be leaving the shore. The inside was dark; the only light came from the moon outside. A decaying scent was in the air.

"So, master elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves; roaring fires, malt beer, red meat off the bone. This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin. And they call this a mine…" Gimli stopped his boasting when the light from Gandalf's staff cast on to the stone steps with dwarfish skeletons laying about.

"This is no mine," Boromir remarked, "it's a tomb!"

"No!" Gimli shouted. "NO!"

Removing an arrow from a corpse, Legolas told us of the murderers. "Goblins!"

I gripped my dagger, suddenly feeling defenseless. The hobbits even had more impressive blades than myself. I would have had better luck fighting as a dog since I was more accustomed to it.

The others drew their weapons as well. "We make for the Rap of Rohan," Boromir insisted once more. "We should never have come here. Now, get out! Get out!"

I whirled around as shouts of Frodo's name broke through the air. Loyalty was my fatal flaw as I was part canine. The urge to protect the Fellowship was in me, but I had pledged my life to the Ring bearer. Much to my horror, long tentacles reached out of the water and grasped Frodo by his ankle. He called for Aragorn as the king cut one of the monster's appendages off and Legolas shot arrows. Boromir had entered the water and hacked and cut his way through until the kidnapped hobbit dropped into his arms.

"Into the mines!" Gandalf called.

I had been trying to pull the other halflings passed the doorway. They finally complied when Aragorn, Legolas, and Boromir, with Frodo in his arms, charged through. The sea monster, which reminded me of the Kraken, lifted its body from the water and surged itself toward us. The force of its body caused the entrance of Moria to collapse and we ran to avoid being crushed to death.

We were lost in the darkness.

* * *

*I wasn't 100% what Gandalf said and my online transcript didn't include this line so I improvised.

Please review :)


	5. If My Velocity Starts to Make You Sweat

For a moment, all that could be heard in the darkness was the panting of our own breaths. I could feel a hand bump into my arm and then trace down my wrist to grasp my own hand. It was too large to be one of the hobbits and the skin was too rough to be an elf's. A thumb brushed my knuckles and I wondered if the affection was for my purpose or his.

The top of Gandalf staff lit the room. "We now have one choice," he said, "we must face the long dark of Moria." He stepped forward to lead us. "Be on your guard; there are older and fouler things than the orcs in the deep places of the world."

The owner of the hand had turned out to be Boromir. He looked at bit ashamed to be grasping on to me. I gave him a tight smile and squeezed his hand with mine before letting go. The Mines of Moria were intimidating and with the attack of the Kraken-like monster, physical contact made great therapy for the fear.

The Steward's son and I brought up the rear of the group. I had glanced over Aragorn's shoulder to see all of the hobbits walking together. The sight of an unharmed Frodo gave me a bit of peace. Aragorn briefly looked over his shoulder at us to make sure we were following. I nodded at him in reassurance of our safety.

"Quietly now," Gandalf warned us. "It's a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence will go unnoticed." His words caused me to shiver, which pegged a look from Boromir that I could not decipher.

We were lead through narrow passages ways, some of which had deadly drops off the side. Aragorn had fashioned a torch and took charge of acting as our caboose.

We stopped when Gandalf touched a rock wall. "The wealth of Moria is not is gold," he said as if he were our tour guide, "or jewels, but mithril."

We stood on the edge of a gaping cavern that seemed to have no bottom. The sight was wondrous and reminded me of an underground Grand Canyon. The spectacle of my world, however, was much more red and brown in color and not gray. The gap inside of Moria had ladders and other contraptions built along its sides for mining.

"Bilbo had a set of mithril rings," the wizard spoke of Frodo's uncle, "that Thorin gave him." He began to lead us once more.

Gimli gasped at this. "A kingly gift!"

"Yes, I never told him, but it's worth is greater than that of the Shire."

* * *

On the second day, we had made camp when we guessed it to be dark outside. I had had a sense of being watched for a while now, but the hobbits managed to distract me. Sam had been in the process of cooking our dinner when Pippin asked me about my world. I had a feeling that he had been wanting to know for the long time but wasn't sure if to ask. Curiosity bubbled to the surface.

"Before I was a skinwalker, I was a Spanish teacher," I told him.

"Spanish?"

"It's a language," I explained. "It comes from the country of Spain, but is spoken in many different countries."

"And you speak it fluently?"

"_S__í." _He gave me a confused look, at which I giggled. "It means 'yes.'"

"There are many countries in your world, Miss Daisy?" Boromir, ever the politician, asked me.

I nodded to him. "More than I could possibly name. I'm from the United States, AKA America."

"AKA?" Aragorn frowned in confusion.

"It stands for Also Known As. For future reference, if I say 'ASAP,' it means As Soon As Possible," I said. "For some reason we like acronyms."

"And after you were bitten? You speak as if you lived a different life then," Pippin innocently asked.

I shifted a bit in my seat. My hand rubbed the fabric on my right forearm, over the scar. "Well, I decided to leave my old life behind. I permanently took to my other form. I wandered the streets for a couple weeks before I was picked up by the ASPCA." Before they could ask, I said, "That's the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. They're a non-profit organization that rescues animals, heals them if needed, and finds them homes."

"Wow!" remarked Pippin.

"I think we need something like that in Middle-Earth," Merry added. He turned to his cousin. "Maybe after the quest is over, we can start one, Pip."

We all smiled and a few chuckled as the feeling of elation spread through the group. Happiness was infectious when a pure soul wanted to devote its life to helping others.

* * *

On our fourth and final day, I wondered what was the point of stairs if they were so steep that you had to climb them on your hands and knees. Aragorn's warning of traveling on two legs made far more sense now. Though part of me missed Bill, I was thankful he was not here.

Once at the top, Gandalf stopped and looked around. "I have no memory of this place."

We were once again waiting for the grey wizard to figure things out, so we settled down. Several members of the group were smoking pipe weed, as they called it. Though this was not the first time they had done so on our journey, I wondered if it was the same thing as tobacco. Actually, there were many things I was curious about in Middle-Earth and how they related to my world. Judging from the accents and appearance of the humans, as well as the landscape, we appeared to be somewhere in Great Britain. I admitted, as an American, my knowledge on the British Isles in general were rough, but I knew that tobacco came from North America. So did tomatoes in fact, but that ate them as if they were very common and not imported.

"Do elves not smoke?" I asked Legolas, noting that he had not once even touched a pipe.

"It is not in their interest, Eirien*," Aragorn answered for me. Him and Legolas had taken to calling me that but would not say its meaning.

I nodded and said, "More cultural differences, I suppose." I narrowed my eyes at the pipe in his hand. "I'm sure they're not the same as the ones my world, but you know they aren't good for your health, Rey**." Since he was going to call me an Elvish name, I was going to call him something in Spanish.

He paused and removed the pipe from his mouth. "What do you mean?"

Rather than answering, I turned to Legolas. "Do elves know the affects of smoking and just choose not to tell the other species, Rubio***?" Legolas got a nickname as well.

Before he could answer, Gandalf interrupted us. "Ah!" We all turned our heads to him. "It's what way!"

"He's remembered!" Merry chipped, standing up.

"No, but the air doesn't smell so foul down there." He took us down a tunnel. "If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose.

"Let me risk a little more light," he spoke quietly when the tunnel opened into a larger space. The place was absolutely breathing taking. The ceiling was higher than imaginable and grand columns towered over us. "Behold! The great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf!"

"Well, there's an eye opener, no mistake," Sam commented.

As we walked along, I couldn't help continuously turning my head around as I took in the sight. There was something special about the place and I knew that this place could not be replicated by the hands of my world, no matter what machine was used. However, the awe was short lived as we rounded a corner to see more skeletons.

"Gimli!" Gandalf called to him as the dwarf ran ahead of us.

He passed opened doors that revealed a room with light shining down upon a slab in the center. He keeled over in front of it and began to sob, the word "no" fresh on his lips. The rest of us followed at a slower pace and took in the room.

The wizard passed him and read the runes that were carved onto the stone block. "'Here lies Balin, son of Fudin, Lord of Moria.' He is dead, then." He removed his tall, gray hat. "It's as I had feared."

Gimli's sobs continued and grew stronger. As a pack animal, I felt his loss and grieved with him. I placed my hand on his shoulder but knew I could not comfort him.

Gandalf handed his hat and staff to Pippin and bent to remove a bound book from a corpse's grasp. He opened it and attempted to blow and wipe away the dust that coated it.

"We must move on," I heard Legolas whisper urgently to Aragorn, "we cannot linger." Mentally, I agreed with him, but I also understood Gimli's need to grieve in that moment.

"'They have taken the bridge,'" Gandalf began to read, "and the second hall: we have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long." I noted Boromir touching Gimli's other shoulder, but the dwarf had stopped his sobbing and listened to the book being read. "'The ground shakes, drums in the deep, we cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. Will no one save us? They are coming.'" We all glanced one another and we mutually felt fear gripping our hearts at the last words.

A loud crash made me start in place and I took my hand away from Gimli. Attentions were brought to Pippin who stood by a well with a skeleton perched on the rim. He looked guilty and scared as the corpse fell in, pulling along a metal chain and bucket. The sounds were especially loud in the quiet mines. Echoes reverberated through all of Moria.

Everyone shared a similar expression, one that said "oh fuck."

Gandalf closed the book and began to lecture the hobbit at fault. "Fool of a Took!" He put the book aside and snatched his things from Pippin. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity."

Shame swam through his features, but only momentarily as it was replaced with fear when drums started to sound. They started out quietly and grew louder. "Orcs!" Legolas called.

Boromir ran to the door to look for the danger. All of a sudden, two small, black arrows were embedded in the wood of the door only inches from his face. The almost death of him scared me even worse than before.

"Get back!" Aragorn told hobbits and I. "Stay close to Gandalf!"

We were ushered to the back, but I stepped away. My dagger was not a good weapon to use in this situation, so I grabbed a sword from a dead dwarf. The weight of it almost took me down, but I regained my balance. Legolas gave me a look, but he was stopped from saying anything by Boromir.

The two Men had shut the door, but as the lighter haired one informed us, "They have a cave troll." He sounded hopeless and though I didn't really know what a cave troll was, I had an idea and it was frightening.

Legolas tossed them two axes and I was glad that I hadn't been at the door for I was sure that I would have killed myself trying to catch it. The two Gondorians used the weapons to barricade the door. Gandalf unsheathed his sword, which the hobbits copied. I could see Frodo's glowing a light blue. The doors shuddered as a force tried to get through. By now the drums were shaking me to the core and my bones vibrated.

Gimli held two axes in his hands and shouted from atop of Balin's tomb, "Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!" I could see his time for tears had passed and he was ready for revenge.

Aragorn and Legolas had arrows notched while Boromir gripped his circular shield in one hand and held his sword in another. I copied his fighter's stance and held onto the borrowed dwarf sword the best I could. We watched as the tips of spears began to pierce the wood.

"Daisy," Aragorn started his warning in a strict tone, but I stopped him.

"I may not be able to wield a sword, but I can try. And there is one thing I have not told you about skinwalkers: we only have one weakness. So unless these orcs have silver weapons, I'll survive." I spoke stronger than I thought I was able to. The quality of my voice left no room for debate. The two archers shot arrows through the new holes, causing squealing to come from outside.

If anyone had interest in arguing, which I'm sure they did, they could not voice their opinions as the doors were broken down by one of the foulest creatures I had ever seen. Earth at least had physically appealing monsters, but Middle-Earth held a dark ugliness to it. You could tell who was evil and who was not by just their appearance it seemed.

Legolas and Aragorn shot down several, but that did not stop the force from flooding through the too small doorway. We were quickly surrounded by these gray-skinned _babosas._ I tried to fight with the sword but found it difficult. I was out of my depth, I quickly realized. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the hobbits enter the fight. I was cut and nicked, but the need to protect the others kept me going above all else.

Thundering footsteps caused me to look toward the door. A blade pierced my shoulder. I screamed in pain, but was drowned out by the doorway that was blown open, followed by a bellow that no humanoid creature could make. A large boulder of debris crushed the owner of the spear that was inside of me.

The cave troll was hideous in a way that couldn't be compared to the orcs. Orcs were deformed in the human gaze, but trolls were monstrous. Legolas shot an arrow into its left breast, which only made it angry. It swung its hammer at one of the hobbits. Before I tell what his fate was, I was distracted by an orc trying to take a blow at me.

I moved backward to avoid the swing, but I wasn't fast enough. The blade grazed my hands, causing me to release my sword in pain. He raised his own sword again, but in that time I had ripped out the spear that was still in my shoulder. It had been curved at the end, making the wound become larger than before. The pain was unbearable and my vision over came me and I stumbled. My butt hit the ground and I would've been gravely injured (but not killed as the metal was not silver) if it wasn't for the arrow that lodged in my opponent's skull.

The thundering footsteps of the troll did not help me feel any better. In fact, I was almost certain I was going to puke. An orc charged at me. I raised my new spear in time for him to impale himself on it. I yanked the weapon out, wondering if I could die from blood loss. I was certainly feeling the affects of it. I was reminded of the first and last time I donated blood. I could feel a cold sweat coming on and I generally felt bad as my body tried to warn me that I was in danger. This was so much worse though; my wounds were leaking freely and I had no nurse to give me a cookie or some water to feel better.

The roars of the troll, the clashing of steel on steel, the breaking of stone, all of it gave me a horrible headache. But through it all I heard a voice that might have been Aragorn's call for Frodo. This jolted me fully awake and I knew I needed to protect him. I gripped the spear as if it were a staff and used it to raise myself from the ground. I looked around, trying to find the dark haired hobbit, but he was not in sight.

My eyes went to the troll and I was shocked to find it standing before Frodo, who looked extremely small in comparison. He was backed into a corner and the closest person was Aragorn, who lay still and unmoving on the ground. I started to hobble my way to him, but I stopped when the troll stabbed the halfling with its spear. My blood turned icy and I completely froze. I felt useless as I watched Merry and Pippin launch themselves onto the back of the troll and stab it with their blades.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins and I surged forward. I was intercepted by orcs, but I slashed and sliced through them with newfound strength. I dispatched the last orc to see the troll sway on its feet after Legolas shot an arrow into its face. It collapsed with Pippin still on top. I rushed my way to Frodo just as a newly awaken Aragorn reached him as well. The ranger was on his hands and knees as he turned him over.

I found myself rooted to the floor again as Frodo groaned in pain. Sam went to his side quickly. "He's alive," he happily informed us. Relief warmed my stomach.

He rose to his knees. "I'm alright," he panted. "I'm not hurt." His hand was placed over his own heart. (_Or perhaps the Ring_, I thought to myself.)

"You should be dead," Aragorn said. "That spear we've skewed a wild boar!"

"I think there's more to this hobbit than meets the eye," Gandalf said. Frodo opened the first few buttons of his shirt to reveal shiny, thin armor.

"Mithril," Gimli gasped. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins."

Faint screeches could be heard, followed by drums. They instilled fear in my heart and I did not think I would ever find drumming the same way again.

"To the bridge of Khazad-dum!"

* * *

Author's note: So I've updated twice this weekend because the last chapter was short and I wasn't too happy with it. I feel like the story has started to improve because I realized that I'm not really telling Daisy's story, I'm just telling the story of lotr. I'm pulling her out of it and making it seem like it's in 3rd person. I hope this chapter has been an improvement of that. Tell me what you think :)

*Eirien - Sindarin for daisy

**Rey - Spanish for king

***Rubio - Spanish for blond/fair haired (male)

****babosas - Spanish for slugs (had to look this one up, so I could be wrong)


	6. Let's Be Alone Together

A new rush of adrenaline surged through me as we dashed down another large chamber of Dwarrowdelf. I was concerned about my blood pumping and if it would cause me to bleed out faster. I could hear the screams of creatures as they chased us. More covered the columns and ceiling, much to my horror.

"What the fuck are those things?" I gasped.

"Goblins," Legolas said as he ran beside me.

We were quickly surrounded as they flooded in from all sides. Their armor was as misshapen as their faces. Their eyes were impossibly large and reminded me of a tarsier. One growled, revealing murky yellow teeth, like a yellow marker that had ran over black ink. My shoulder was pressed against Boromir's as we held our weapons in front of us. I was sure were we going to die, but a loud roar sounded through the cavern, one worse than the cave troll's.

The hordes of goblins shifted and squabbled. I could almost smell their fear. They screamed in their high pitch voices and quickly disbursed. They scaled the columns and fled. While I was happy they were gone, I feared whatever had chased them away. What could terrorize goblins that much with just simple movements of vocal chords?

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked, practically voicing my thoughts.

The silence lasted only moments, but the fear and tension made it seem like hours. My heart was beating inside of my eardrums. An orange light came from down the corridor and I wondered if a Hell's Gate had been opened.

"A balrog," Gandalf whispered. "A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you." I mentally noted that he did not include himself. "Run!" He began the chase.

Leaving Dwarrowdelf, we entered a side stairway that led downwards. The momentum built up as I ran and I doubted I would be able to stop. I caught sight of Boromir coming to a halting stop, dropping his torch. I was grateful for the platform that paused between sets of stairs. I was able to figuratively hit the breaks before I passed Boromir. Before he could fall to his death, Legolas grasped him from behind and pulled him back and on top of himself.

I turned my head, panting harshly, to see Gandalf shove Aragorn, making the ranger give him a look of alarm and offensive. "Do as I say; swords are no use here!"

And so we descended farther down, the staircases narrow and lacking any safety features. Unfortunately, there was a yard and a half wide gap in the way from where stone had crumbled with age. It wouldn't of been so dangerous if the whole thing wasn't so steep and narrow.

Legolas easily jumped over and turned back to us. "Gandalf," he urged with a gesture of his arm. The wizard sprang across with surprising agility for someone who was as physically elderly as he.

It was in that moment when arrows started to rain down around us. "Don't we ever get a fucking break?" I growled. Aragorn and Legolas returned fire and took down the archers. I bent my knees and breathed deeply. I thought back to my childhood, jumping on a trampoline, as I sail over the gap. I had overshot it and was not prepared for the landing. My legs buckled and I almost went rolling down and tripping Legolas. My knees and already cut hands were scraped fearsly.

Boromir grabbed the hobbits in both arms, much to their shock, and leaped across. This caused at least another foot of stone to break away. I cursed furiously, in both English and Spanish, as Legolas shot down more archers. I felt helpless as I could do nothing.

Aragorn threw Sam and he was safely caught by Boromir. When he turned to Gimli, the dwarf raised a hand and said, "Nobody tosses a dwarf!" I almost rolled my eyes at his stubbornness, but then he jumped across and barely made it, teetering on the edge. Legolas moved faster than the rest of us and gripped Gimli's beard. "Not the beard!" he shouted. I flinched and imagined it felt like waxing, but the pain lasting longer. He pulled him forward and into his arms. More of the stairs collapsed and the two remaining had moved just in time. The gap was at least four or five yards wide.

Though it was horribly irrational, I wanted nothing more than to go to Frodo. I took a step forward, but was stopped by a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Boromir shake his head at me.

A roar interrupted us and the balrog shook the entirety of the mines as it drew closer. Rock fell and broke the other side of the stair bridge, trapping Aragorn and Frodo. I whimpered in fear for them and felt Boromir grasp my right forearm.

The support below them began to crumble and they fought to keep their balance. Luckily, the structure fell toward us. Frodo fell into Legolas's awaiting arms and as soon as their feet touched sturdier ground, we were running once more. Fire was raging inside of Moria and I sincerely hoped there was a nearby exit. Surely the dwarves were smart enough to plan for an emergency fire exit.

"Over the bridge! Fly!" Gandalf shouted, stopping for us to run past. I didn't bother to wonder what he meant by telling us to fly.

Glancing back, I saw a horrifying sight. A monster, perhaps the Satan of this world, followed us. Its skin was black and possibly made of coals as its back and shoulders were alight with flames. Its eyes glowed and so did the inside of its throat. Terror skimmed its fingers over me, but I moved to escape its grasp.

We were forced to cross an even narrower bridge and I supposed that dwarves believed in single file line. I refused to let myself look down because I knew that if I did I would freeze and possibly puke. I didn't stop until I heard Gandalf shout from the bridge, "You cannot pass!" He faced the balrog with his sword and staff raised.

"Gandalf!" Frodo called to him.

I could not make out his words, but a light began to glow around him. It was the epitome of good versus evil. The balrog brought down a blade of fire that dissolved when it came into contact with Gandalf's. The beast roared at him. "Go back to the shadow!" the grey wizard ordered.

It stepped onto the bridge and wielded a new weapon, a whip of fire. He whipped it to the side as if throwing down a gauntlet.

Gandalf raised his sword and staff and pressed them together. With a mighty voice, he roared at the beast, "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" His weapons slammed onto the bridge.

With one step forward, the stone broke away, balrog and all.

Gandalf stood unharmed on the ledge. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Just as he turned to follow us, the whip reached up from beyond the grave and grasped his ankle. Frodo and I both started toward him, but we were stopped by the others. A dog-like whine escaped my mouth.

"Gandalf!" Frodo screamed as he was restrained by Boromir,

The wandering wizard held onto the edge and looked at us with wide blue eyes. "Fly, you fools." And he slipped into the abyss.

"_No_!" Frodo howled as his heart broke in two. Boromir picked him up like a child and called to Aragorn.

My breath caught in my throat and I didn't think I could breath. Frodo's screams of agony squeezed my heart until it was a bloody mush of meat. I was barely aware of Legolas as he was pulling me away. My legs were forced to moved. I stumbled at first but I regained my footing and was running at full sprint. We didn't stop until we reached the outside. The blue sky should have been a beautiful sight, but all I felt was pain. My shoulder flared, as did my hands, but I could not feel them over the pain in my chest. Boulders made up the landscape and made it rough to run.

Once outside, we slowed to stop as reality set in. The hobbits couldn't even support themselves as they fell to the ground in sobs. I wanted to comfort them, but I was rooted where I was standing. My body shook uncontrollably. A wave crashed through my ears and I could no longer hear their pain; I was too busy being submerged in my own.

"Legolas, get them up," Aragorn ordered. These words broke the trance I was in. I suddenly wanted to throttle the ranger for being so cold.

"Give the moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir said before I could harm Aragorn.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs!" he informed us. His reasoning was logical but I barely cared in that moment. If I hadn't been grieving so deeply, I would have felt the instinct to flee this place. "We must reach the woods of Lothlorien. Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up. On your feet, Sam." He grasped Sam and pulled him up. He gave me a wary look, but I simply nodded, no expression on my features. My anger was pushed to the side; I was a pack animal and I needed to follow my leader.

* * *

We continuously ran for roughly thirty minutes before we reached a forest. Only then could we walk. Leaves fell around us and I felt a sort of wondrous magic about the place.

"Stay close, young hobbits," Gimli warned them. "They say a sorceress lives in these woods. An elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell and they are never seen again."

I frowned at his words. If anything, the woods reminded me almost of Rivendell and it smelled faintly of elves. I was sure this was the home of the immortal ones, but I doubted a witch lived here. The prejudice and hatred that dwarves and elves felt for one enough held no bounds, so a story about an evil elf was not surprising.

"Well, here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily," Gimli boasted. "I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!" This words were cut off by two arrows notched inches from his face.

I myself was caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the golden elves. I bit back a growl as everyone was threatened with arrows.

"The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," a smooth voice said. Aragorn spoke to him in Elvish.

"Aragorn," Gimli interrupted, "these woods are perilous. We should go back."

"You have entered the realm of the Lady of the cannot go back." The elf's eyes went to Frodo and I felt anger bubble in my stomach. "Come, she is waiting."

* * *

By dusk were standing on top of a platform in the trees. I kept away from the edge in fear of falling. The elf that lead us here, whose name was apparently Haldir, greeted Legolas and Aragorn in Elvish. So of course, Gimli complained that him and the rest of us could not understand. Personally, I trusted Aragorn enough that he would inform us if something was said that we needed to know.

"We have not had dealings with the dwarves since the Dark Days," Haldir told him in a clipped tone.

"And you know what this dwarf says to that?" His next words were in a different language and judging from Aragorn's expression, he was insulting the elf.

"That was not so courteous," the ranger chastised him.

Haldir's gaze was taken to Frodo. His next words made me grind my teeth together to stop a growl. "You bring great evil with you." He turned away from the hobbit. "You can go no further," he spoke quickly.

The next several minutes was spent with Aragorn arguing quietly in Elvish with Haldir. I busied myself with inspecting my hands. Legolas took notice and bounded them with makeshift dressings from strips of cloth.

"You will need these cleaned and soon," he warned me. His eyes landed on my shoulder. "You are wounded even worse than I thought. Why did you not say anything?"

I looked down at my new bandages. "There wasn't exactly any time. And I'll be fine." Before he could protest, I continued. "Like I mentioned in Moria, I have only one weakness and it was not used against me. The wounds are unpleasant, but they won't kill me." I had lowered my voice to avoid the other elves overhearing.

Apparently Aragorn had won the debate as Haldir ordered us to follow him. It turned out we were a greater distance from the city than thought. It was afternoon by the time we reached it and I was amazed by how golden and beautiful it was. Humans moved nature when it was in the way, but the elves built with it. Their homes were in the trees that towered above us. Staircases wounded around the trunks.

The sun had just slipped away when we met our hosts. Both the lord and lady walked with a natural glowing air about them. They were aryan and stunningly beautiful.

"The enemy knows you have entered here," Lord Celeborn told us. "What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Nine there are, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

"Gandalf the Gray did not pass the borders of this land," Lady Galadriel spoke very softly. "He has fallen into shadow." Her mouth barely moved as she spoke.

"We was taken by both shadow and flame," Legolas said remorsefully. "A balrog of Morgoth." I felt lost as my knowledge on Middle-Earth lore was ever limited. "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his full purpose." The lady stopped and turned her gaze to Gimli. "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin. For the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands love is now mingled with grief." Her clear blue eyes moved to Boromir then and he could not meet her gaze. He slightly shook and I placed my hand on his arm, just as he had done for me in Moria.

"_Welcome, Daisy of Earth."_ I started at the voice that echoed through my mind. The Lady of the Light stared at me and I knew it was her voice. "_You have come a long way from home, but your purpose for being in Middle-Earth is important. The first part of your fate will soon show itself." _I only nodded in response.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship?" Lord Celeborn asked. "Without Gandalf, hope is lost."

"The Quest stands upon the edge of a knife," Lady Galadriel spoke in her soft voice. "Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while the company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep in peace."

* * *

I found the soft glowing light of the elven realm to be relaxing. I was much cleaner after being given a bath that I used to scrub away grime, black blood of orcs, and other things that I didn't want to know about. The water was filthy when I was finally through with it. My wounds were tended despite them being mostly healed. Wounds healed quickly for me, unless they were made by silver.* A young elleth had happily braided my hair while I practically scarfed down the food I was given. The sweet bread was edible happiness as far as I was concerned.

I sat on my bedroll in the tent we were given. Beautiful singing could be heard throughout the city.

"A lament for Gandalf," Legolas explained.

Aragorn ran a whetstone down his sword while Merry asked, "What do they say about him?"

"I have not the heart to tell you." Tears shone in his blue eyes. "For me, the grief is still too near."

"I bet they don't mention his fireworks," remarked Sam as he laid out his own bed. "There should be a verse about them." He paused before standing. "The finest rockets ever seen! They burst in stars of blue and green. Or after thunder, silver showers…" Aragorn smacked Gimli for sleeping through Sam's poetry. "They came falling like a… rain of flowers… Oh, that won't do them justice by a long road." He lost his confidence at the end and dropped onto his cot.

Aragorn passed me to leave the tent and I leaned toward Sam to say, "I liked that. That was especially good for a spur of the moment poem. Write it down, add to it, edit it. That'll do Gandalf and his fireworks the justice you're looking for."

A blush settled on his face. "Thank you, Miss Daisy."

* * *

The Fellowship rested peacefully in the tent. We needed the period to relax, grieve, and recover. However, one of us seemed to be missing out on these luxuries. Boromir sat several yards away on top of a large root that grew above ground. The pale light of the realm created almost a halo on his light hair. I slowly arose from my cot and quietly tiptoed around my sleeping companions.

"You should be resting," I said in a low voice as I approached from behind. His head turned around to face me. "We may not get another opportunity to for awhile." I sat down beside him.

"I cannot find sleep as thoughts plague my mind," he confessed, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes.

I nodded in understanding. "I know the feeling. An exhausted body always loses to an awake mind." I shifted myself as the root made a poor and uncomfortable seat. "Do you want to share these thoughts? It may help."

He paused for a moment. "I covet the Ring," he admitted painfully. I almost told him that we all did, but he continued to speak. "And not just for Gondor, though that is the main reason." He looked shameful and desperate. "I am lying to myself when I say my intentions are pure."

"We have a saying in my world: 'The first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem.' The fact that you know you covet it means that you can address the problem and you have the potential to change yourself." I rubbed the fabric over my right forearm. "Granted, it's easier said than done, but none of this is easy. The fact that you've made it this far proves that you're strong, Boromir."

He gazed at me with his gray eyes. "Thank you, Miss Daisy."

I waved away the formality. "Please, just Daisy. I think it's been long enough for us to at least address each other on a personal level." I fully turned my body to face him. "You speak of Gondor a lot," I observed. "I can see that you care for it very much."

His eyes twinkled at the new topic of conversation. "Yes, it is my home. I miss it very much."

"I know how you feel."

He looked at me with sympathy. "You are a long way from home as well." He hesitated before asking me, "Why are you helping us and putting yourself in danger when this is not even your home?"

I sighed and told him, "For many reasons, really. I do want to help the Free Peoples, but my cause is more selfish than that. There is no leaving Middle-Earth, at least not in the foreseeable future. I have no choice but to make this place my home. And just like you, I can't watch it burn."

"What was your life like before you… were bitten?" he asked in a ghost of a whisper.

I was surprised by the question, but I answered. "Relatively normal for my world." This question had been previously posed by Pippin and I wondered if he was looking for more details. "My name was Gemma then. Gemma West." At his confused look, I explained, "As a dog, my owners named me Daisy. Calling them my owners sounds terrible, but that's what they were. And I love them so I kept the name."

"Did you," he paused. "Were you in a courtship with anyone?" My eyebrows shot upward in alarm at the question. He suddenly looked embarrassed. "I apologize, my lady. I should not have asked."

"No, it's fine. And it's just Daisy," I said with a small smile and he returned it. "Actually, I was going to get married."

He raised an eyebrow. "You were betrothed?"

I nodded. "I had to leave due to the situation of becoming a skinwalker. And honestly, I planned on ending our relationship anyway."

"Why? If it is not too impolite to ask."

I tried to swallow the lump that was forming in my throat. "There was an accident," I said barely above a whisper. He leaned in slightly to hear me better. "His skull was fractured in several places, causing brain damage. He also shattered his left hip." I blinked back the tears that stung my eyes. "I loved him, I really did. I tried to stay with him through his recovery. My reason for wanting to leave wasn't because it took him so long before he could walk again, or because he forgot all the time; sometimes he forgot my name even. It was because I was scared of him."

Boromir frowned at my words. "Why did you fear him?"

"Wade, because of the brain damage, he was angry _all the time._" I pulled back my sleeve to reveal the white scar on my forearm. "He tried to stab me twice; only once he succeeded. Thank God it was just a butter knife."

Boromir's fingertips traced over the puckered flesh with gentle touches. His hands were calloused from years of manual labor and working with weapons. His eyes left my arm and went to the fresher scar on my neck. He moved his hand to touch it in the same way as my arm. I could feel heat radiate from him. "I have always wondered what caused such a mark and whom would ever do such a thing to a beautiful young woman."

"The witch who brought me here," I said quietly though the compliment was not lost on me. My hand reached up on reflex to touch the scar, but collided with his instead. I kept my hand there and felt along his flesh.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbled, leaning in to kiss me.

I pulled back slightly, keeping our lips an inch apart. "Don't," I whispered. "Please."

He tilted his head, but did not move away. "Why?" His voice did not carry an accusation, but simply needed to know.

I sighed and pressed my forehead to his. His masculine scent flooded my senses and was intoxicating. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to act like a jerk then kiss me just because this place is glowing in a lovely light and everything is romantic and we're alone together and sharing emotions and secrets. You don't get to do that," I repeated. "Both us are… emotionally compromised because we lost our friend and we're weak and weary. Don't do something that you'll make us both regret."

His hand had traveled from my throat to my cheek. "I do not regret this, Daisy." His mouth claimed mine.

* * *

They finally kissed! Do you guys think it was too soon? I was trying to build up their relationship a bit in the past chapters.

*Supernatural hasn't revealed too much about skinwalkers, so I'm using my artistic license with this.


	7. Until My Heart Explodes

"Never before have we clad strangers in the grab of our own clothes." Pale, slender fingers adjusted the silver and green leaf brooch that held the grey cloak on my shoulders. Though I didn't like the closeness of the silver, it did not touch my skin and I could not refuse their gift. "May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes."

We were given gifts. Legolas got a new bow, which he seemed very impressed with. Merry and Pippin were each given a dagger. Sam was handed Elven rope which seemed rather dull, so he asked for a dagger, but did not get one.

In my hands the lady placed an Elvish sword. It was curved like a soft tilde. The hilt was burgandy with golden weaving. It was roughly three feet, but still light in weight. Sindarin was carved along the blade. "It says, '_Im Adonnenniel. Guren níniatha n'i lû n'i a-govenitham_.' I am Adonnenniel. My heart will weep until the time we meet again," she translated.

"Adonnenniel," I repeated the name, tasting it on my tongue.

"It means resurrection."

* * *

"Lembas," Legolas said happily of the bread given to us. We were filling the row boats with our supplies. "Elvish waybread," he explained. He took a small bite off the corner. "One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man," he told Merry and Pippin.

Once he returned to packing, I heard Merry ask his cousin, "How many did you eat?"

"Four."

As we sailed down the river, I sat with Gimli and Legolas. Frodo, Sam, and Aragorn shared their own boat. Merry and Pippin traveled with Boromir, whom I threw glances at much too often. Sometimes, he caught me or I caught him. At first I blushed and looked away, but that grew old and I became comfortable with the intimate moment we shared. However, that did not mean I was okay with anyone else knowing.

I had let my gaze linger on Boromir when I felt eyes on me. I turned to see Aragorn with a raised brow. My cheeks heated and I turned away, but I still saw a smirk pull at the corners of his mouth.

We traveled via the river for several days. We stopped on the shores by nightfall and would be packed and back in the water before the sun even rose. There was clearly danger with loitering on the banks.

Boromir's boat had been near mine when Pippin asked if I had a tale I could tell from my world. I had plenty of stories from history, books, and movies, but I had a hard time thinking of one that would interest and make sense to him.

"Um," I mumbled while trying to think. "How about _the Princess Bride_?"

Merry crinkled his nose. "The Princess Bride? Is it a child's story about love and boring things?"

I smiled at him. "It does have love in it, but also sword fighting, hunting, murder, trickery, miracles, humor, and even torture." I paused before adding, "And it can be a child's story."

So I told the tale and the hobbits looked deeply interested. The others even threw in questions from time to time. They were disturbed by the machine used to torture and drain away Westley's life. I had to explain to them that no such device actually existed. Boromir admitted that while the Man in Black was impressive, he was too unrealistic. The Steward's son had more of an interest Inigo Montoya.

That night, while we settled on the banks, I was awaken by the arguing of Boromir and Aragorn. "You were quick enough to trust the Elves. Have you so little faith in your own people?" Boromir's tone sounded strained and I rose from my bedroll. "Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But there is courage also, and honor to be found in Men. But you will not see that." The king tried to turn away, but he was stopped as the Captain-General yanked him back by his shoulder. "You are afraid! All your life, you have hidden in the shadows. Scared of who you are, of what you are."

"I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city!" Aragorn harshly whispered.

"Rey," I interrupted him. They seemed shocked by my sudden appearance. He only spared me a nod before angrily stalking away. I gestured for Boromir to follow me just out of hearing distance, but still within a safe range of camp. When we came to a stop, I gripped one of his hands in both of mine.

"He does not trust Gondor to help defeat the Dark Lord," he confided in me. "He Isildur's heir! If the king does not trust his own kingdom, then whom will?"

I kept gripping his hand, but moved one of mine to brush his hair back. I traced my fingertips along his jawline. "Do not distress yourself over this, Boromir. Tell me about Gondor; tell me about your family."

And so he spoke of the White City and his brother, Faramir. The younger son of the Steward gave him great elation to talk about. He admitted that his father did not trust Faramir to go travel to Rivendell for he thought he was not strong enough to resist the Ring. When he said that Faramir had more place on this quest for he was more knowledgeable about the history of Middle-Earth, I pointed out that I had no complaints because I wouldn't have met him. He kissed me after that.

* * *

The next morning we passed an amazing sight. Two rock statues of kings stood on either side, like three hundred foot pinnacles. Their arms were outstretched as if telling us to go no farther. I was barely the height of the smallest toe. "The Statue of Liberty has nothing on these guys," I muttered. At a curious look from Legolas, I told him about Lady Liberty.

The river poured out into a large lake. We stopped to make camp and Aragorn told us, "We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north."

"Oh yes?" Gimli began to argue. "It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better!" At his side, Pippin froze. "Festering, stinking marshlands far as the eye can see."

"That is our road," Aragorn confirmed. "I suggest you rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

"Recover my…" He trailed off with a huff.

I turned away from them and gazed off into the woods. Something didn't feel right. My instincts settled a strange feeling in my stomach. I did not trust this area, but the word of our leader was final and I was not in a position to argue.

"Where's Frodo?" Merry asked. I tensed at his words and my blue eyes searched around wildly. I cursed myself for not noticing his disappearance earlier.

"I'll find him," I promised the others. I transformed and dashed off into the forests. I heard Aragorn called out "Eirien!" but I did not stop. I lowered my nose close to the ground and tried to find his scent. I was very familiar with the smells of everyone in the Fellowship at this point and I doubted any other hobbit walked this area recently.

I was able to find his trail quickly and I trotted through the woods. Everything was in shades of gray, but this did not bother me. Only after a few minutes, I heard footsteps and conversation. Another scent mingled with Frodo's. Boromir. I knew he coveted the Ring and I feared that he was acting on this.

"Give it to me!" Boromir's voiced called out and I ran forward.

"No!" Frodo's meek voice yelled.

"Give it to me!"

"No!"

When he was finally in view, I froze. Frodo was no where to be seen and Boromir was crouched on the ground. "I see your mind. You will take the Ring to Sauron! You will betray us! You go to your death, and to the death of us all! Curse you! Curse you and all the halflings!" I charged and leaped on to him. His head smacked onto the leaf covered ground and it put him into a daze for a moment. I snarled and snapped at him as I stood on his chest.

"Daisy?" he asked in a daze. He looked side to side. "Frodo? Frodo?" he whimpered pathetically. "What have I done? Please, Frodo." He made to get up, but I snarled again. He paused and sobs started to slip from his lips. "Daisy, please forgive me. I tried to take the Ring from him. I could not help myself."

I looked around for Frodo, but he was no where in sight. I could smell him still as his scent was fresh. I thought about following him, but I did not trust Boromir. Or rather, the Ring's hold on him. I turned my icy eyes on him once more. Tears glazed his eyes and wettened his face. He moaned apologies and the urge to comfort him grew within me. I remained loyal to Frodo, but Boromir was not evil, it was the Ring that guided his actions.

I licked his cheeks and whined. His gloved hands stroked my fur. I stepped off him and he sat up. I began to nuzzle but stopped when I heard the sound of clashing steel. My ears perked upward and turned toward the sound.

"What is it?" Boromir asked me. Having no way of replying, I dashed away. I heard him follow me only moments later.

I could smell hobbits nearby, though it was not in the direction of the battle. Knowing they could not properly defend themselves, I sought them out. Dogs naturally run faster than humans, but Boromir somehow managed to stay several yards behind me.

I caught sight of Merry and Pippin being chased by creatures in black armor. With his sword drawn and my teeth bared we entered the fight to protect the little ones. They stabbed with their elvish daggers where they could.

I found fighting them to be difficult as my teeth could not pierce the armor covering their arms, chests, and heads, but other part were left exposed. They smelled similarly to orcs, but their scent was thick with mud and steel. Luckily, Boromir drew the white horn from his belt, which I identified as the Horn of Gondor, and blew on it. The sound reverberated through the woods. While it called for our friends, we were in danger of attracting more of our enemies.

The bitter blood and foul meat of these creatures was unpleasant to taste, but my teeth were my best weapons. I forced myself not to gag, but to continue fighting instead. I ripped out throats and tore open arteries. My coat was drenched in their black blood and I doubted I would every full wash out the smell.

The horn was still blown and our friends were still not in sight. We were attempting to retreat but they kept coming. The cousins started throwing rocks at them as Boromir fought one with his sword. My fang sank into the throat of one I had tackled to the ground.

I raised my head just in time to see an arrow pierce through the Gondorian's shoulder. He dropped to his knees for a moment, but stood again to fight. I followed his actions and forced myself to recover from the shock. But another hit his stomach and I tried to call to him, but only a bark came through. He dropped to his knees once more, gasping in pain. The hobbits watched him in horror. I intercepted one that approached him, determined to keep them all safe.

With two arrows sticking out of him, Boromir continued to fight. His bravery and last attempt to save the little ones' lives almost broke my heart. Another arrow sunk into his torso. He dropped to his knees once more. I howled from the breaking pain inside my chest and the halflings grabbed their blades to fight. They were picked up instantly and carried off. Their cries rang in my ears.

Before I could follow them, a force slammed into my skull. I fell to the ground and everything became fuzzy. I held onto consciousness, but could not rise. I saw the archer approach Boromir and raise his bow with a notched arrow.

I watched his last moments, helplessly, hanging onto the edge of oblivion. He had fought to the death to defend the little ones he cared for like children. It broke my heart seeing him keeled over, about to greet Death. And I fell in love.

* * *

I awoke only minutes later. Everything was a blur at first, but I made out two figures. One was lying down with another crouched over him. My body felt cold and I realized that I was naked and in my human form.

"Leave it! It is over. The world of Men will fall. And all will come to darkness, and my city to ruin." I recognized Boromir's voice and I blinked rapidly to refocus my vision on them.

"I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall, nor our people fail." That was Aragorn speaking, I was sure.

"Our people? Our people." His breath was horribly ragged. "I would have followed you, my brother. My captain. My king."

"Wait," I gasped out. I crawled toward them slowly. Twigs dug into my flesh, but I ignored them. "I can save you, Boromir. The curse will not let you die unless it is caused by silver." Despite my nudity, I did not feel embarrassed as there was no room for it at the moment. "I can give it to you. You will live, but you won't be the same."

Blood coated his lips, showing that he was bleeding internally. "Daisy," he muttered, "I trust you."

I nodded and tears sprung to my eyes. My teeth transformed, but no other parts did. "I'm sorry," I whispered and my fangs sunk into his flesh.


	8. I'll Find You When the Sun Goes Black

Boromir lost consciousness after I bit him. Legolas and Gimli arrived on scene to see me clamp my mouth around his throat. His blood filled my mouth and I made sure not to cause permanent damage to him. My tears streamed freely and mingled with the blood pooling on his skin. After a few moments I released him. A sob slipped through my wet lips.

Thick fabric fell onto my shoulders and I looked up to see Legolas covering my naked flesh with his cloak. I softly thanked him and pulled the robe closer around me. Aragorn and Legolas carried a limp Boromir back to camp, as if he were a ragdoll.

I grabbed my pack and redressed behind a tree. The Steward's heir had been laid out on a bedroll and was covered in white bandages. I kneeled by his side and said to the rest of them, "Leave."

"We cannot leave you two, Eirien," Aragorn protested.

"His transformation will take time and I am the only one who can help him through it," I explained. I placed Boromir's head in my lap. "Leave and we will follow. We can track your scents. Besides, dogs are faster and have more endurance."

"Are you certain?" the prince of Mirkwood asked me.

"Yes, Rubio." Suddenly, Boromir stirred and let out a cry of pain. The canines of his teeth were unusually sharp. "He's already started changing. This is a long process and we will only slow you down."

"Lass," Gimli started, but Legolas added his input first.

"Sam and Frodo have reached the eastern shore; we can still catch up." Aragorn sighed at his words. "You mean not to follow them," the elf deduced.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands."

"Then it has all been in vain," Gimli sadly said. "The Fellowship has failed."

The two walked over to him and Aragorn clasped them on the shoulders. "Not if we hold true to each other. We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left." He backed away to the supplies. "Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let's hunt some orc."

* * *

I watched the sun lower from the western shore. I had stripped Boromir of his clothes as they would only restrict him. I laid a blanket over him to at least give him some dignity. For the last few hours, I had watched him struggle in his sleep and his wounds heal. His muscles would spasm uncontrollably and he would moan from the pain of his slowly changing body. There were times when his fingers curled, making fistfuls of pebbles, and fur would sprout in new hair follicles, only to recede seconds later.

Finally, he awoke with a violent start. His gray irises had expanded to most of his eyes. They were not steel in color like they normally were, but instead a shiny silver. A dog-like whine escaped him.

"Boromir," I said to him, touching his face, "listen to me. You're transforming, okay?"

"The halflings," he gasped out. Fur began to grow and recede along his body.

"Don't worry," I reassured him. "Aragorn and the others went to save them. After you're finished here, we'll join them." I kissed his forehead. "Just focus on this."

He nodded and whimpered, "It hurts."

"I know it does, but don't fight it. You need to concentrate on changing."

His face suddenly became deformed as a muzzle attempted to grow. He snarled with new fangs. His legs failed as they changed shape. He howled in pain, but it turned to one of a beast. He turned to his side as if to move away from the pain and I could see his spine moving underneath the skin. One of the worst parts was the reformation of the backbone, including tail growing.

He completely rolled over onto his stomach and tried to lift himself with his arms as they shortened into front legs. His ears traveled to the top of his head and changed shape. A long, pink tongue lolled from his mouth as he panted in from exhaustion.

At this midpoint, he was grotesque and terrifying like something from Hollywood. His half formed muzzle had a black dog nose at the end. His back was bent and a tail grew from the bottom of his spine. His hands were twisted and stunted; his nails were thick and black like claws. Tan and black fur grew all over him and I wondered, for just a moment, what breed of dog he would turn out to be.

He let out a scream of pain, but it turned into a howl. I sat there, unable to help him. He shuddered violently before completely changing and then collapsing. A handsome German shepherd laid on its side before me. His coat was a golden tan, but black marked his muzzle, back, and around his silver eyes. He whimpered and stared at me.

"There we are," I said as I stroked his head. He leaned into my touch. "Sleep for bit, then we will go after the others." While he slept, I readied our things in a single rucksack. I packed his clothes, the Horn of Gondor, my dagger, and Boromir's throwing knives. Aragorn had taken Adonnenniel and Boromir's sword with him, which I was thankful for as we wouldn't have been able to carry them.

As the sun began to set, I removed my clothing and added them to the bag. I changed and nudged Boromir awake. He looked surprised at first, but seemed quite happy to see me.

"_We need to get going_," I told him.

"_We can speak?!_" he barked in a bewildered tone.

"_To each other and other animals, yes. Humans, elves, etc., they don't understand._"* I grasped the handle of the rucksack between my jaws. We followed the tracks that were mostly left by Gimli. I encouraged Boromir to practice using his sharp senses. Instinct took over and he found their scent.

We ran late into the night. Boromir admitted his surprise to me that everything was gray when we stopped for a quick break, just as the sun was rising. "_Why do we see in gray?"_

"_We see the same as dogs: in black and white."_

This surprised him as well. Had we had time, I'm sure he would've continued his questions that I had no answers for.

It was in the afternoon that we found the others. Their scents had gotten stronger as we got closer. We spotted them in the distance, running ahead. We picked up the pace despite our exhaustion. I came to a halt a minute later and Boromir copied my actions. I threw back my head and let out a strong howl. My canine companion joined me and I briefly wondered if it was voluntary or not; the urge to howl along was always strong.

Their heads whipped around and they ceased their running. Boromir and I dashed forward to greet them. The sight of them unharmed made me so happy and warmed my heart. I collapsed a few feet away, dropping the bag to the ground. Boromir joined me by my side, our tongues falling out of our mouths as we panted. Saliva dripped from our jaws and we made no move to try to stop it. Our legs shook from exhaustion.

Aragorn crouched in front of us and patted our heads. "I am glad to see you, my friends."

I licked his hand, resorting back to a pet dog. He scratched behind my ear for a moment and I groaned in pleasure at the feeling. I could see him stroking the side of Boromir's face, whom looked quite pleased with the attention.

Legolas brought forth leather water skins. He pulled off the top and poured the liquid into my mouth. I did my best to lap up the stream. He switched to Boromir after a few moments, but he had more trouble since he wasn't accostomed to drinking this way.

Once refreshed, Aragorn urged us to our feet. We whined our protests, but he gestured for us to stand. "I am sorry, but we must continue on. We will stop at nightfall. They're taking the hobbits to Isengard."

Ever the loyal follower, I stood. Seeing Boromir still on the ground, I nudged him with my nose. "_Come on, we need to go."_

"_I do not think I can go much farther," _he confessed.

I huffed and nudged him again. "_Of course you can; you have to. Merry and Pippin are depending on us."_ I nipped his shoulder, causing him to yelp and jump up.

His growl was instinctive, but uncalled for. It pissed me off, but I held down my anger. I had to be patient with him; he was not used to these natural instincts to show whom was dominant to whom. He couldn't control them and fighting and growling were part of it. The others stared at us.

"_Stop it," _I snapped at him. "_You're acting like a pup."_

That knocked some sense into him and he realized he was no longer being the human he was. "_I am sorry, Daisy."_ He dipped his head down shamefully.

I huffed at him again. "_Come on, we need to go," _I repeated.

We stopped at nightfall, just as promised. We lapped up more water and were given chunks of jerky to chew on. The February night was freezing and we laid side by side for heat. Aragorn was dozing on his bedroll with each us dogs on either side of him. It seems the loyalty to "Master" was shared.

"_I am truly sorry about earlier, Daisy,"_ he said.

I brushed it off. "_Don't worry, Boromir. It's natural; you'll just have to get used to it."_

He seemed a bit troubled by my words. "_I feel different, Daisy. I am torn between following Aragorn and leaving to find Frodo. I want so desperately to protect them both. I feel my heart breaking having one but not the other."_

"_It's tough having more than one master."_

He tilted his head in confusion. "_Master?"_

"_We're dogs," _I explained. "_We have a sense of loyalty and devotion. We pledged ourselves to Frodo, but follow Aragorn as our leader. We practically imprint on humans like a duckling does to its mother. A dog forms a bond with its master or mistress and we are no different. Having two is difficult, especially when they're worlds apart."_

"_You had owners,"_ he said, his silver eyes shining with understanding and sympathy. "_You must miss them very much."_

"_I do. My heart aches for them. I miss Master reading to me, Mistress rubbing my head. I mostly miss their child. We would play together and he would slip food underneath the table to me at dinner."_

Boromir rose and walked to my side. He laid next to me, our bodies pressing together with only fur between us. He licked my muzzle and mouth affectionately. "_I would turn over Middle-Earth to see you home and happy again."_

"_No," _I said, "_I am at home and happy right here."_

* * *

The landscape of Rohan was equally pretty and grueling. The grass was wheat colored and soft with sharp gray rocks and boulders littered about. I couldn't understand how these Horse Lords easily made it over the rocks. The openness was perfect for horseback riding, but there was always a stone to trip on.

In the middle of our run, with Gimli trailing behind and Boromir matching my speed, Legolas stopped and turned around. "The red sun rises, blood has been spilt this night." Damn elvish riddles.

I uselessly threw my head over my shoulder to gaze at the sun rise to our backs. Nope, just grays.

Not too much later, as it was still morning, Aragorn stopped to inspect the ground. With our noses to the earth, we smelled orc and uruk-hai, but made out no hobbit scent. A loud whistle from the distance caused my ears to shoot forward. The neighing of horses and dull sounds of hooves followed. Aragorn must have heard it as well as he faced the noise and rose to stand.

We were ushered behind a large boulder just as a herd of horses and their riders charged over the hill. They wore armor and carried spears, swords, and several flags. Aragorn gave us a glance at seeing these riders. He stood and came out of our hiding spot, shouting, "Riders of Rohan! What news from the Mark?"

The leader of the Horse Lords threw up his arm, staff in hand, and led his men around to circle back to us. Boromir and I cautiously stood at Aragorn's feet like a pair of guard dogs. They rushed around us, hooves stomping too close for comfort. I felt fear of being trampled and crushed from being so close to the ground. They formed a thick circle around us, horse chests side by side. They pointed their spears at us. Aragorn put his hands up in the universal sign of surrendered.

A man surged forward and broke through the others. His hair was long and golden, trapped underneath a helm with pale horse hair from the top. The nose guard was in the shape of a horse, which was kind of ridiculous.

"What business does an elf, a man, and a dwarf have in the Riddermark?" he practically snarled. "Speak quickly!"

"Your real name, horse master," Gimli said confidently, "and I shall give you mine."

This did not make Horse Master happy. He handed his spear to someone on the side and dismounted his horse. He strode forward, his brown eyes menacing and his face sneering. "I would cut off your head, dwarf," he threatened, "if it stood but a little higher from the ground." His every word was spat at Gimli.

Fluidly, Legolas drew an arrow and aimed at Horse Master. I couldn't hold back the snarl that bubbled in my throat. "You would die before your stroke fell," the prince promised.

Instantly, spears drew closer the the elf. Aragorn pushed the arrow down and away from the Horse Master. The spears withdrew and Gimli sighed with relief. I snapped at the riders' leader, but stopped my growling. His eyes cut to me with confusion and what might have been a smidge of fear.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn," he introduced himself, making the brown gaze turn on him. "This is Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas of the Woodland Realm." He purposely didn't include Boromir and I as it would be strange to formally add the name of your dogs. "We are friends of Rohan, and of Théoden your King."

The Horse Master hesitated and didn't look Aragorn in the eyes. "Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe." He removed his helmet, revealing his baby face. "Not even his own kin," he said glumly. The riders raised their spears.

"_That's Éomer, nephew of King Théoden,"_ Boromir explained to me.

"Saruman has poisoned the mind of the King and claimed lordship over his lands," Éomer continued. "My company are those loyal to Rohan, and for that we are banished. The white wizard is cunning. He walks here and there they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked, and everywhere his spies slip past our nets." His eyes fell to each of us, suspicion filling the brown depths.

"We are no spies," Aragorn said. "We track a party of uruk-hai westward across the plain. They have taken two of our friends captive."

"The uruks are destroyed," said the Horse Master, "we slaughtered them during the night."

"But there were two hobbits," Gimli said desperately. "Did you see two hobbits with them?"

"They would be small, only children to your eyes," Aragorn explained.

Éomer looked down and shook his head lightly. "We left none alive." He pointed into the distance. "We piled the carcasses and burned them." I whined, my heart aching in my chest. White smoke wafted through the air not too far away. Éomer gave me a funny look.

"Dead?" Gimli asked softly.

Éomer paused and nodded gently. "I am sorry."

I whimpered and bumped my head against Aragorn's leg. Even though it was impossible, my eyes begged him to do something to fix this. His pale eyes glanced down to meet my own. His hand stroked the top of my head gently. "I am sorry, Daisy," he murmured.

Éomer suddenly whistled sharply, causing Boromir and I start, ready to be commanded like dumb beasts. "Hasufel, Arod, Wyn!" he called. Three horses, one reddish brown, one white, and the other dark brown, came at his call. I shared a look of embarrassment with the German shepherd. We really were tamed pets.

"May these horses bear you better fortune than their former masters. Farewell," Éomer said, turning and placing his helmet back on his head. He mounted his horse and said, "Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope. It is forsaken in these lands." He called to his men, "We ride north!"

They charged away from us, only leaving the three gifts behind. "_I want to go with them,"_ the white one said.

"_I as well," _the reddish brown one added. "_I miss Master Cniht,"_ he cried.

"_Do not fret,"_ Boromir told them.

"_Your master may be gone," _I told the reddish brown steed, "_but Aragorn is a kind master and he will care for you."_

* * *

*Supernatural: season 9, episode 5 "Dog Dean Afternoon"

Okay, so I'm writing a Hobbit fanfic, but I won't be posting it until around the time of the last movie since it's movieverse. I heard it's going to be call "The Battle of Five Armies" and I'm really disappointed it isn't called "There and Back Again"

But my fanfic is named the Road to Ruin, but it may change since I've been indecisive with it.

Reviewing would be very nice :)


	9. In the Business of Souls

Luckily, we reached the pile of orc carcasses quickly. A severed head was impaled on a pike and I thought of the irony of how humans considered these creatures to be violent. The smell made me gag and I fought the urge to puke. I wondered if this was similar to the smell of concentration camps or if burning human flesh smelled even worse.

Boromir's eyes empathized with my disgust on the matter. He was a victim to sharp senses as well. Legolas couldn't have been faring much better.

Both Boromir and I changed back to our human forms, which meant we needed to get dressed. I leaned against Wyn, the dark brown mare, as I tugged on my black breeches. I held onto her reins to make sure she didn't walk away and expose me to the others. I let go of her to pull my dark blue tunic over my head. Before changing, I had warned her not to move until I was dressed.

"Alright," I said, patting her long neck, "we're good." I buckled a black belt around my waist and fastened Adonnenniel to it. I paused and searched the ground. "Where are my boots?" I called to the others.

"Right here," Boromir said, walking around Wyn. He handed me my boots and steadied me with his hand as I pulled them on.

Turning our gazes to the dead, we searched for any sign of them. Looking for a specific scent would be useless. Gimli took his axe to push aside armor and dead flesh. Pulling something charred out by hand, he said softly, "It's one of their wee belts."

Legolas mumbled in Elvish and even though I didn't know what he said, I shared the emotion in his tone. I felt guilt from being weak and not having the strength to run endlessly through the night. Had we been just hours ahead, we could have saved them ourselves.

Angrily, Aragorn kicked a helmet. He screamed in rage, tightening his hands into fists and falling to his knees. I wanted to comfort him and I suddenly wished to be in dog form as it would have been more appropriate to cuddle against him. But licking his face as a person was just weird and disturbing.

"We failed them," Gimli said.

Aragorn then seemed to take an interest in the ground. With his knees still in the dirt, he touched the earth and traced his hands over something I could not see. "A hobbit lay here, and the other."

My chest ached as he recounted their last moments. I turned away as if to distance myself from the scene. I pressed my forehead into Boromir's shoulder. His hand touched my back, not enough to pull me into him, but I could tell he wanted to.

"They crawled. Their hands were bound."

A sob tore at my throat. I hated listening to his words. Tears leaked through my shut eyes and I shuddered against Boromir.

"Their bonds were cut," he said more hopefully.

I turned sharply toward them. I could see through the blur in my wet eyes that they had wandered off a bit as Aragorn tracked them. I marched forward, wiping roughly at my cheeks. Boromir's footsteps followed behind me.

Aragorn searched the ground, following the past. His tracking skills never ceased to amaze me. "They ran over here. They were followed." We were jogging after him now. "The tracks lead away from the battle…" We stopped in front of a forest, the trees looming over us. I couldn't quite describe it, but the place was dark and set me on edge. "...into Fangorn Forest."

"Fangorn Forest, what madness drove them there?" Gimli asked in shock.

"Well, a battle," I stated. "While the woods are giving off some serious creepy vibes, why is it so terrible?"

"Darkness is in the air of Fangorn Forest, Lady Daisy," Gimli the Soothsayer said.

"We have no other choice," Aragorn declared, "we must enter this realm."

Boromir placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. After a glance from his king, he quickly removed it.

Into the woods we went. While dark and scary, Fangorn Forest lost a portion of its terror without the tales. As someone who didn't know the stories, I was having a hard time telling if my chances of being a victim were increased or decreased. The ground was covered in unearthed roots and rocks. I constantly kept my eyes on the floor and watched my step. Once or twice Boromir had to grasp my elbow to stop me from falling.

Gimli touched a leaf with black goo on it. Much to my disgust, he licked his fingers, spat, and said, "Orc blood!"

"Y'know," I said, "I'm pretty sure I've seen this movie before."

"Movie?" Boromir asked.

"Uh, play, I guess. A play is the closest way to describe it. But I've seen this scenario played out dozens of times in horror mov- uh, plays. A group of characters go into the creepy woods and are picked off one by one. Usually the cast is a bit younger and not so diverse in species, also stupid, but I think we can make do. Of course, as the only female in the group, I have to take the role of being the favorite character because my job is to be sexualized and almost treated like a person with feelings that the audience can relate to. Which means I'll survive this. The rest of you, you won't make it. Whoever is in the back will die first. Wait, shit, I'm in the back. Uh, can you guys slow down a bit? I think I'm gonna-"

"Daisy," Aragorn cut me off, "shh!"

"Sorry," I whispered. I could see Boromir's lips twitching as he fought off a smile.

Aragorn, ever the tracker, crouched down and said, "These are strange tracks."

"The air is so close in here," Gimli observed more than complained.

"This forest is old, very old. Full of memory… and anger," Legolas riddled for us.

I opened my mouth for a sarcastic reply, but snapped it shut as a load groan sounded through the forest. It hummed within the earth. Gimli picked up his axe, ready to defend himself.

"Is someone playing the didgeridoo?" I asked rhetorically. I was ignored.

"The trees are speaking to each other," Legolas said with a bit of panic.

"Gimli!" Boromir hissed at him, startling to dwarf. "Lower your axe," he commanded with a gesture. The son of Gloin let it slowly slip in his grasp.

"They have feelings, my friend," Legolas explained as if that made any sense. "The elves began it. Waking up the trees, teaching them to speak."

"Talking trees," Gimli said with a masked "of fucking course." "What do trees have to talk about? Hmm? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings?"

Legolas said something in Elvish and his tone worried me. He picked up his pace but stopped, peering around suspiciously. Aragorn went to his side and I joined them. He asked something in Elvish and I felt really out of the loop. "The White Wizard approaches," Legolas prophesied.

"Do not let him speak," Aragorn warned quietly. "He will put a spell on us." He drew his sword, Boromir and I copying his actions. Legolas readied an arrow. "We must be quick."

In unison, we turned and a bright light broke through the trees. The dark forest was illuminated like someone turned on a giant, high powered light bulb. Legolas shot an arrow, but it was instantly deflected. Aragorn, Boromir, and I found our swords hot to the touch, making us drop them. I squinted at the light, but I very much doubted my eyes could adjust to it and I was focused to look away.

"_You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits,"_ the White Wizard said, his voice sounding like it had been scrambled electronically.

"Where are they?" Aragorn demanded to know.

"_They passed this way, the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?"_

"Who are you?" the king asked. "Show yourself!"

The light instantly faded and my heart leapt to my throat. Tears sprang to my eyes as Gandalf stood before us. He appeared to have gotten a makeover; his hair was white and straightened, his robes were also white, and so was his staff!

"It cannot be," Aragorn gasped.

"Forgive me," Legolas pleaded, "I mistook you for Saruman." He bowed, Gimli and Boromir doing the same. Driven by peer pressure, I knelt to the ground as well.

"I am Saruman," he said simply. "Or rather, Saruman as he should have been."

"You fell," Aragorn said, still in disbelief.

"Through fire, and water. On the lowest dungeon, on the highest peak, I fought him, the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. The stars field of end, and every day was as long as a life age on the earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I've been sent back until my task is done."

This explanation sent me into a daze as I tried to make sense of it. He mentioned a mountainside even though we had been in Moria. And another thing: I had been raised Christian and while my beliefs changed when I learned of monsters, this gave me troubled thoughts about religion and the afterlife.

"Gandalf," Aragorn breathed, stepping closer to him.

"Gandalf?" he asked, as if hearing the name for the first time. He paused, then smiled. "That is what they used to call me." Aragorn nodded in confirmation. "Gandalf the Gray: that is my name."

"Gandalf," Gimli said, happy tears in his eyes.

"I am Gandalf the White, and I come back to you now at the turn of the tide."

We walked briskly through the woods, retracing our steps. I followed the conversation quietly. Apparently, we were headed for Rohan and Gandalf knew how to cure the king. He told us that Merry and Pippin were safe and he mentioned something called ents. The amount of creatures in Middle-Earth never ended it seemed.

Once we left Fangorn Forest and reclaimed our horses, Gandalf faced the plains and whistled. The sound was musical and certainly magical. Had I not already been by his side, I would've dropped everything and run to him.

A neigh sounded from the distance and a beautiful white horse galloped towards us. My knowledge of the of these four-legged beastswas limited, but this steed had an otherworldly beauty. _If Lady Galadriel was a horse,_ I thought to myself. _It's just shy a horn of being a unicorn._

"That is one of the mearas unless my eyes are cheated by some spell," Legolas said in amazement.

"Shadowfax," Gandalf introduced him. "He's the lord of all horses and has been my friend through many dangers." He stroked his long, white neck when the magic horse approached us.

"Is he anything like a unicorn?" I asked. At the confused expressions I was getting, I explained, "It's a magical, and mythical, horse with a long, sharp horn on its forehead. They're said to be healers and immortal." I paused. "And only virgins can ride them since they're so pure." Trying to escape the awkwardness that ensued from that last sentence, I went to Wyn's side.

"Ready?" Boromir asked. I nodded and he gestured me to mount her.

"Uh," I stupidly droned, flicking my gaze from the stirrup to the saddle. I had never ridden a horse before.

I heard him chuckle at me. "Here, allow me to assist you, my lady." Suddenly, he grabbed me around the waist and picked me up like I was a doll. I was settled into the saddle within a second. Terrified I was going to fall from such a tall height, I clenched my legs around Wyn, causing her to snort. Boromir mounted her swiftly and sat behind me. My back rested on his chest and my ass was pressed against his crotch. I sat in between his thighs and the whole thing felt extremely intimate. To make matters worse, his hand laid against my belly and drew me closer while his other hand grabbed the reins.

I never really noticed how large Boromir was compared to me. His hand seemed to cover my entire stomach. His chin tapped the top of my head as we rode on. His thighs were thick and constricted against my much thinner ones. Muscles were hidden under his clothing, but I could feel them in his arms and stomach. His chest was as broad as my shoulders and I swore I could feel every curve of it against my back.

I felt shame and embarrassment of the hot flash that stirred between my legs from his closeness. But the jostling of the mare underneath us imitated certain movements. The worry of Merry and Pippin was now on the edge of my mind as Boromir took over. I was practically panting at the one sided sexual tension. I made a mental note to add fucking on a horse to my bucket list.

I could feel him tense behind me and I thought I heard him sniffling. Fear that he could smell my hot, sticky desire clouded my thoughts. His heated breath brushed against my ear and he whispered huskily, "I feel the lust too."

My eyelids drooped at his words. I squeezed his hand that was holding me to him. "Later," I whispered back. "The moment we are alone I will have you." I could feel him become excited and I fought the urge to moan and grind against him.

The others rode on obliviously.

* * *

We reached Edoras the morning of the next day. Wooden gates fenced the capital and a green flag, trimmed in red with a white horse on it flew to the ground as we entered the city. I considered stopping for it, but I did not want to slow down what was left of the Fellowship.

I cursed whoever's idea it was to build a city on the side of a mountain, small as it was. I was forced to lean backwards on Wyn and into Boromir. The imbalance was uncomfortable and made me constantly feel like I was suspended and about to fall.*

I couldn't help but notice the black themed clothing of the citizens as they stared at us. I was tempted to make a quip and asked who died, but I feared the response I would get in return.

"You'd find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli commented.

"I was just thinking the same thing," I muttered to him.

We were forced to dismount our steeds and give them over to the stable hands. I stroked Wyn's face and ran my fingers through her black mane. "I'll miss you, Wyn. I swear to visit when I can," I promised. She nickered at me and ran her soft, furry lips over my hand. "You'd better take good care of her," I threatened the young man who was taking her from me. "If you don't, I swear my wrath will rain down and you will certainly feel it." I made my tone sharp and the boy looked terrified.

"Yes, my lady," he practically squeaked.

"See you soon, dearie," I cooed to her before taking my leave.

After exiting the stables, I looked up at the staircase leading to Meduseld, the great Golden Hall. Boromir stepped next to me and put a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Not much farther now."

I glanced over at him. "We've just started."

* * *

*If you have ever ridden a horse uphill, you know this feeling. It fucking sucks and is why I dislike riding. And I've fallen off a galloping horse.


End file.
